A Minute From the Deep End
by adiwriting
Summary: When tragedy strikes one Thanksgiving Day, Blaine struggles with how he's going to survive as a single parent. While the media just wants him to be the face of Equal Rights, Blaine just wants to figure out how to breathe again, and there's only one person who's in a position to help him—Kurt. The one person he thought he'd never see again. AU past season 3.
1. Minutes

Sometimes you have to live second to second. It's too much to live minute to minute. It's too much to think that far ahead because everything ahead just aches. Sometimes all you have is the quiet _in out in out_ of your breathing to keep you sane. Focus only on your next breath. He knows this. His husband has told him this day in and day out.

So he knows that if he can just make it through the next second. If he can just hold on, he'll eventually manage minute to minute. He'll eventually make it hour to hour. And maybe, one day— though that day seems so far away—maybe one day he'll begin to live day to day, month to month or year to year.

But for now, all he has is that steady _in out in out_ to keep him going. All he has is the steady beep of the machines to tell him that his husband is still alive. That for now, in this second, all the hopes and dreams that they've had together for the past 10 years aren't over.

_Two minutes._

"911, please state the nature of your emergency?"

"I need help. My husband... he's not breathing. My family was attacked and now he's not waking up and I... he's not breathing. Please."

He knows that he needs to be calm. His family is counting on him to help them through this. But he can't stop himself from panicking. There's blood spattered across sand and the few people out today are just standing around shocked and unmoving. He's alone in this.

"Sir, I am going to help you, but I need you to calm down for me so I can ask you a few questions."

He can barely hear her with Olivia screaming into his ear. He absently pats her head, knowing it will do nothing to calm or quiet her while she's still got a bone sticking out of her leg.

"Sir, can you tell me where you are?"

"The park. I can't remember... The one off of 5th and Madison? It has a name, I don't... I came here all the time as a kid. Oh God, I'm sorry, I just... I don't remember what it's called."

It's the simplest question. All they need is the address and the EMT will arrive. They will show up and his husband will start breathing and they'll have some injuries, but they'll get through it together. All he needs to do is answer a simple question.

His mind is blank.

_Thirty nine minutes._

"What are you doing?" Blaine asks. Olivia is screaming and crying as he watches a nurse begin to search through different drawers. They've only been at the hospital for ten minutes, but they have already been given a bed and paperwork to fill out. His mind is racing and he can barely see straight in order to fill out the tiny boxes on the forms.

The ambulance ride over had been terrifying. They'd had to shock his husband's heart on the way over, and he hadn't started breathing on his own again by the time they arrived and rushed him down the hall. Blaine had tried to follow them, but Olivia was put into a bed and a nurse had begun to check her out. He couldn't leave her alone.

He has to take deep, steadying breaths to keep himself from sobbing. What had started out as a lovely holiday back home had quickly turned into his worst nightmare. He can't stop seeing flashes of baseball bats swinging. He can't un-see his husband lying lifeless in a park that he'd grown up playing at. He can't stop thinking why us? Why him?

"I'm going to put an IV in her so that we can have a line open. She's going to need pain medication and probably surgery, so I'd like to be prepared. I'm going to need you to hold her still for me, can you do that?" The nurse speaks to him in a soft soothing voice. He knows that she's trying to keep them both calm, but it's having the opposite effect.

His body moves of its own accord and he soon finds himself sitting down on the bed, careful not to jostle her broken leg. This is how it's been for him since the attack. He's been working on autopilot. Too stuck in his own thoughts and guilt to realize what he's been doing.

He tries his best to focus on Olivia, knowing how much she needs him now, but it's hard. Every few seconds he's glancing out the crack in the curtains looking for something, anything, that will tell him what's going on.

"Okay," the nurse comes over to the bed, setting her equipment down on the table beside her. "Olivia, I'm going to give you some medicine now, and when I'm done, you're going to start to feel better, okay?"

Olivia shies away from the nurse, burrowing into his side.

"I'm going to need her arm," the nurse says, giving him an expectant look. "Try to keep her distracted and calm."

He nods. He takes a deep breath and tries to put everything except for Olivia out of his mind for the next minute or so. In. Out. In. Out. He reminds himself.

"Hey, Liv. Do you want to practice Little Mermaid with Daddy?" Blaine asks, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably.

"Papa!" she cries, looking up at him with sad eyes. His heart breaks. He knows that she's going to be traumatized for the rest of her life after this. She's only four years old and has just watched her papa get beaten within an inch of his life. But right now, it's his job to keep her mind off of that.

"Aw, come on. You know Papa's favorite song is Little Mermaid. I'm sure he would love to hear you sing it when he's feeling better. But... no, I don't think you know the words," Blaine says, carefully detaching one of her hands from his shirt and handing it to the nurse so she can get the IV in place.

Olivia turns to look at the nurse, tries to pull her arm away, but Blaine catches her attention again by putting a hand under her chin and forcing her to look at him. "I guess I'll sing to Papa alone then."

"I wanna sing, too," she says, pouting at him. She's still crying, but she seems to have settled down enough.

"Okay, well let's practice together then, okay? The seaweed is always greener, in somebody else's lake," Blaine sings into her ear. His breath almost catches at the memory of the three of them singing this at the airport just yesterday afternoon, but he holds it steady for his daughter's sake.

"You dream about going up there, but that is a big mistake," Olivia sings along quietly. She's always been a shy child. She's much like her papa in that respect, but singing usually helps her come out of her shell.

"Almost done, Dad. You're doing a good job," the nurse says, sending him a smile.

"Just look at the word around you, right here on the ocean—Owww!" she screams and tries to pull her arm away, but Blaine quickly takes hold of her.

"All done," the nurse says. "Wasn't that easy?"

"No," Olivia says in a bratty voice.

"Liv, be nice," Blaine says, patting her on the back.

"She hurted me." She pouts, crossing her non-IV'd arm across her body while the other one hangs off to the side pathetically. Shy or not, his child is definitely a drama queen.

"The doctor should be just a minute," the nurse begins to explain before two men pull at the curtain slowly and interrupt them.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes," Blaine says, nervously. He sees a flash of their badges and he realizes why they are here. It makes his stomach churn. They are going to want a statement about what happened. He knows it's necessary, but doesn't know if he's ready to talk about it just yet. Not while it's still so fresh in his mind. Not until he knows that his husband is going to be alright.

"Right, can we have a moment of your time?" One of the officers nods his head towards the lobby while the other comes in and sits next to Olivia in the empty chair the nurse has left.

"Hi, I'm Detective Henry, I like your dress," the officer says to Olivia. Blaine watches the exchange closely. She doesn't take well to strangers.

Olivia remains silent, looking at them cautiously, but she hasn't burst into tears again so Blaine assumes she'll be alright for a few minutes.

"Mr. Anderson?" the second officer puts a hand on his back and gestures for him to come outside. With one last look towards his daughter, he leaves walks out into the lobby.

"I'm Detective Williams, do you mind walking me through what happened?"

Blaine runs a hand over his face while he tries to calm his nerves. He knows that they've done nothing wrong, but he can't help but feel like he's in trouble. Can't help but remember the last time he's been in a situation like this. He'd been fourteen and more or less told that it was his fault he'd been attacked. He was gay, and if that was how he decided to live his life, these things were going to keep happening.

God. How _did_ this keep happening to him? And why did it have to happen to his family? His vision begins to get blurry and it's hard for him to breathe. He closes his eyes to try and steady himself, but that only makes it worse as imagines of an aluminum bat being taken to Jake's head flash through his mind.

"Mr. Anderson?" Detective Williams asks, placing a hand on his arm.

Blaine jerks away from his touch. He can't breathe. He's gasping for air and his vision is swimming. He hears the man call for help before everything goes black.

_Fifty seven minutes. _

"This is Dr. Hunter at St. Ann's requesting a transfer of a 29 year old male, severe blunt force trauma to the head with extensive internal bleeding..."

He wakes up to the sound of the doctor's voice on the phone. He tries to listen in closer, but everything sounds like he's underwater. He catches glimpses of words like "catastrophic" and "need neuro" but he can't make it all out. He moves to sit up, but instantly feels nauseous.

"What do you mean you can't tell me? He's my brother-in-law," a familiar voice is yelling.

"And while I can appreciate that, unfortunately their marriage isn't legal in the state of Ohio and I'm not allowed to give out information to anybody but immediate family," a second, female voice, answers.

"Fuck that, his family doesn't give two shits about him. Blaine has power of attorney and medical proxy, you legally have to let us know."

"Sir, I don't make the rules, but I do have to follow them. I suggest if Mr. Anderson has a medical proxy, to get us a copy as soon as you can. But I'll let you know that for now, I still won't be able to give information out to _you_."

"Coop?" Blaine calls out. Instantly the curtain in front of him is pulled open and Cooper rushes to his side to pull him into a hug.

"Thank god you're alright," Cooper says.

Blaine's heart sinks. He _shouldn't_ be alright. He's the one that goes to the gym regularly. He's the one that has been taking boxing classes since high school. If there was going to be a fight, he should have been the one defending their family. Jake was the most peaceful man he's ever met and now he's... well, he doesn't know how Jake is, but it can't be good.

"What happened?" Blaine asks, looking down at the IV running into his arm.

"You passed out, sir," the nurse comes in to check on him. She has him sit up slowly so that she can check him over. "You appear to have had an anxiety attack and that, mixed with your concussion, caused you to lose consciousness for a few moments. We gave you a minor sedative. Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous? Does your head hurt?"

Blaine shakes his head. His vision is still swimming but he doesn't need anyone fussing over him. "Where's Olivia? Where's Jake?"

"Liv is with Mom. They are getting her prepped for surgery," Cooper says.

Blaine shoots him an alarmed look and moves to get out of bed, but Cooper pushes him back down.

"It's a fairly simple surgery. She's going to get some screws put in to hold the bone together while it can heals. Her surgeon specializes in pediatric orthopedics and she said we shouldn't be terribly worried about her growth plates, which is good. You don't need to worry about her. She's going to be fine."

"And Jake?" Blaine says, terrified to hear how his husband is doing. He'd gotten the worst of it.

"Nobody here will tell us anything, we're not family."

"What?" Blaine looks over at the nurse, confused. "There are federal regulations. You know you'll lose your funding if you deny us access."

"Sir," the nurse says with a pleading voice. "Trust me, I think it's stupid as well. But the regulations that got passed give you permission to see your husband and allow you to make medical decisions with your husband's permission. Unfortunately, since your husband is unable to give us permission, we can't do anything without paperwork clearly stating your husband's wishes. I told your brother here that if you have a medical proxy, the sooner we can get a copy the better."

"Tell me you have a copy of your paperwork in Ohio," Cooper says.

"I... where's my phone?" Blaine asks, looking around. He's going to need to make a phone call. They'd packed for Ohio in such a hurry, not knowing if they were even coming until the last minute. Paperwork had been the last thing on either of their minds. Why should it? It wasn't an issue anymore for pretty much any other state.

"I gave it to Liv so she could play that duck game. She was panicking and it calmed her down."

"Right," Blaine says, instantly feeling guilty again. His family needs him, he can't be lying in a hospital bed as well.

"Coop, I need you to call Wes Montgomery, his number is in my phone. He's the one that did all of our paperwork and I know he's got copies. Call his house number, his wife makes him turn off his cell phone on holidays."

Cooper nods and walks away.

"Mr. Anderson," the nurse says, drawing his attention back to her.

"Blaine," he says. Mr. Anderson reminds him of his father and he just can't deal with that memory now. Not on top of everything else.

"Blaine," she says with a small smile. "I need you to tell me if anything else is hurt besides your head?"

"No," he lies.

"Is that so? Your right wrist is pretty swollen," she says.

"Listen, I know you're just doing your job, but I'm fine. So give me whatever papers you need me to sign so that you'll let me go."

"Blaine, I don't think that's a good idea," she says, giving him a disapproving look.

"Well, quite frankly, I don't really care." He glares at her. She couldn't honestly expect him to lay here with everything else going on.

"You're not going to be any help to your family if you're hurt," she says with a condescending tone and he wants to snap at her. He doesn't appreciate being talked down to, especially by somebody who's younger than him.

"And I'm pretty sure I have the right to refuse care. Or do I need my lawyer to fax over a lawsuit as well?" He says harshly.

He knows it's harsh and unfair. It's not the nurse's fault that his family is here today. But his temper has been raging ever since the attack this afternoon and he's been itching for a fight.

"Fine, I'll go get a doctor so we can discharge you."

_Two hundred and sixty minutes._

Blaine paces an empty hallway, his cellphone heavy in his hands. His mom and Cooper are still at St. Ann's waiting for Olivia to come out of surgery. Her doctors have assured him that the second she's able, they will have her transferred to Mount Carmel West as well so that she can be closer to her papa. He's been here, alone, for two and a half hours. Cooper had offered to stay with him, but he'd begged his brother to go back and wait with their mom. He feels guilty enough as it is not being with Olivia. He can at least make sure that her grandma and uncle are with her when she wakes up.

But two and a half hours alone has done nothing to help ease his troubled thoughts. He still doesn't know if Jake is going to make it. He's three hours into surgery and the surgical resident that keeps coming out to update him tells him that it's still too early to tell. They've removed his spleen which was causing him to hemorrhage, but there's still a long way to go.

He's seen the pitying looks from the nurses walking by. He understands that the staff doesn't think that Jake will make it through, but Blaine refuses to indulge this thought. He simply can't imagine a world without Jake in it. And he refuses to believe that one homophobic asshole has turned a wonderful Thanksgiving home into a complete nightmare. That one man has single handedly ruined his life.

But deny it all he wants, he still knows what he needs to do now. Knows that he can't avoid this phone call. He has to call Jake's parents, even if they haven't spoken to their son since he came out to them nine years ago. They deserve to know about his condition. They deserve a chance to say goodbye—because as much as he tries to ignore that thought, it's the only thing the nurses quiet whispers can mean.

He pulls up the contact information for the Koleson's and dials it before he can change his mind. He wonders if their number is still the same. It's been so long since they've heard from them.

"Hello," a sugary sweet voice answers the phone and it makes his stomach churn. He remembers that voice, even though he's only heard it on a few rare occasions. It's the voice that told Jake he would burn in hell. It's the voice that told Blaine he was to blame for turning Jake gay.

"Mrs. Koleson?" he asks. It's stupid, he knows it's her.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, um... this is Blaine, Jake's husband?" He has to close his eyes to keep the room from spinning. He feels like he's going to be sick. It's been a long day, and this is the absolute last thing he wants to be doing.

"What do you want?" she says, her sweet tone instantly replaced with one full of hatred.

"There's been an accident with Jake..." He pauses, waiting to hear her reaction.

"And?" She asks, her tone indifferent.

"We don't know much at the moment. His injuries are extensive. They seem to have gotten most of the internal bleeding under control, but he's... He's still in surgery. They have him at Mount Carmel West in Columbus and I thought—"

"You thought what?" she asks, her tone spiteful.

"I thought you might want to come and see him," he says in a quiet voice. He's a grown man now, no longer a child, but this woman makes him feel like he's 13 years old again, arguing with his father.

"I told him a long time ago, if he stayed with you and continued to live a life full of sin that he would no longer be my son. Thank you for the phone call, but if this is God's punishment for his behavior, then we all need to accept it."

"He's your son," Blaine says, his eyes filling with tears. Even when his parents had been at their worst, he could never picture them turning their back on him like this. How can she just ignore Jake like she hadn't raised him for the first eighteen years of his life?

How can she just act like it doesn't matter if Jake dies? Blaine can't imagine the next thirty minutes without his husband, let alone the rest of his life.

"He's no son of mine," she says and hangs up the phone.

The abrupt end of the call throws him off. His eyes are swimming with unshed tears and he wants nothing more than to call her back and give her a piece of his mind. Tell her that Jake is twice the parent that she will ever be. That he's accomplished so much more than they ever had and they should be proud. Tell them that the world would be much better without them in it. How is it that his Jake, who has done so much good for so many people, is the one that's dying, while people like that got to live long and healthy lives? It wasn't fair.

He doesn't believe in God, so he doesn't have any religion to lose. But he knows if Jake dies, Blaine's faith in _humanity_ will never be the same.

Blaine punches the wall in anger and instantly regrets it when he remembers that his wrist is still hurt and possibly broken. There are now shooting pains up his right arm, but he finds he doesn't mind. The pain helps drown out the desperate ache in his heart.

He looks down at his phone and sees a familiar name right below Jake's parents. A number he's always called whenever he's had a problem. The person that, next to Jake, knows him better than anyone else.

Before he realizes what he's doing, he's calling.

"Hello?" Kurt picks up the phone, his voice soft and gentle if not a little confused. The familiar sound causes his unshed tears to fall, but he can't bring himself to say anything. Not after over five years of no contact.

"Blaine?" Kurt says again when he doesn't respond.

Blaine immediately hangs up the phone. What is he doing? Here his husband is, quite possibly dying, and he's calling his ex-boyfriend for comfort? Who does that? He hasn't talked to Kurt since that night. Told Jake that he never would.

His phone rings in his hand and when he looks down, Kurt is calling him back. Blaine's thumb hovers over the screen for several rings, debating. He knows how easy it would be to answer it. To lay all the broken pieces of himself out for Kurt to skillfully put back together. But he shouldn't. His family needs him. His husband needs him to be _here_. And Kurt? Kurt shouldn't get to see him like this. Not anymore. The phone goes to voicemail before he can make up his mind.

_Three hundred and fourteen minutes. _

"Hey... I'm not sure what that was just now. Maybe you just dialed my number by accident? But... call me. I know it's been awhile, but I told you once that I'd always answer the phone if you called. No matter what, that hasn't changed. So, call me back. I'm worried. You never call me unless something's wrong... So, yeah. Let me know that I'm overreacting and worrying over nothing."

The sound of his voice alone helps calm him and he knows talking to him would be even better. But he can't. He's not ready to explain what's happened to Jake to anyone. Not yet. And though he knows Kurt's just a friend, has only been just a friend for close to eleven years now, he can't shake the thought that he promised. He promised Jake, but more importantly, he promised _himself_. No contact.

So he listens to the voicemail seventeen more times, trying to calm his nerves. But never once does he allow himself to make the phone call.

_Six hundred and eighty minutes. _

"Mr. Anderson?" a doctor walks over to him and takes the empty seat in front of him. His mother instantly grabs for his hand and holds in tight in hers. She's been waiting with him ever since Olivia got transferred an hour ago and he's never been more grateful for her presence than now.

"I'm Dr. Monroe. I was one of the surgeons who operated on your husband."

Blaine can barely look at the man. His expression is grim and though he's been trying to hold onto the fleeting feeling of hope all day, he's been expecting the news. This is it. This is the moment when his life falls apart.

"He had massive internal bleeding, which forced us to remove his spleen. We repaired perforations in his stomach as well. There's still a long way to go, but we seem to have gotten most of the bleeding under control."

"What?" he asks, shocked. Because this hasn't been the conversation he's prepared himself for. It sounds almost as if... "Wait, he's... Jake's alive?"

"He's in ICU at the moment."

"Oh my god," Blaine says, leaning back into his seat, his hands over his mouth in shock. His mother has her arms around him.

"I should warn you, Mr. Anderson. Your husband has suffered a great deal of trauma and he currently has a lot of swelling in his brain that still concerns us. We've put a shunt in to help with the swelling, but there's still a long way to go before we really know."

"Know what?" Blaine asks, his stomach dropping again.

"The rest of his body will be fine. But his brain... Well, I've never seen anybody recover from this kind of trauma. I'm afraid you're going to need to start considering what you will do if it becomes clear that he can't survive off of a machine."

Beside him, his mother takes in a great gasp. Blaine just feels numb. They've never discussed something like this. He doesn't know how he's supposed to make a decision like that. It's too much responsibility. It was one thing to prepare for the possibility that Jake wasn't going to make it, but now that he's alive? Now the doctor is telling him that it's his responsibility to decide wither his husband lives or dies? How does he do that? This man is his entire world. He's nowhere near ready to become a widower. He's only thirty-one. They've barely had any time together. When they'd taken vows to love each other forever, he expected forever to last so much longer.

He doesn't have the strength for this. He knows that death would be Jake's choice. He wouldn't want to live like this. He believes in God. He takes Olivia to church every Sunday. Jake would tell him to let go. But Blaine doesn't believe in things like heaven and doesn't know how he is just supposed to send his husband off into nothing. How does he goes from waking up next to this man every morning to this?

No more breakfasts in bed. No more cold feet tucking under Blaine's thighs as they watch TV in the evenings. No more fighting over preschools or iTunes downloads. No more off-key sing-a-longs in the living room. And that's just him. That's not even considering what he would be taking away from Olivia. God, she would be losing her everything.

He can't do this.

"He'll wake up," Blaine says with a steely determination. He can't afford to consider any other option.

"I hope he will," the doctor says with a sad smile. "But I just want you to be prepared. We'll keep an eye on him for a few days. If his swelling doesn't go down or it becomes obvious that he's lost vital brain function, we're going to need to consider the possibility that—"

"He's going to wake up. He has to."

The doctor doesn't say anymore on the subject, for which Blaine is grateful. He stands and gives them a nod.

"You won't be able to see him for another hour or so. Should I tell the nurse to come and find you when he's ready? I know they admitted your daughter and you'd probably be more comfortable waiting in her room."

"Yes, that would be nice," his mother speaks for him. He's lost his ability to say anything.

What is he supposed to tell Olivia? She's going to be waking up in a few hours, groggy from pain meds and demanding to see her papa. He simply can't do this. Not without Jake. Jake always gave him strength, he doesn't know if he will survive the night without him, let alone the rest of his life.

"Sweetheart?" his mother says gently, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Is there anyone you want me to call? Any of your New York friends you think need to know?"

Oh God, he hasn't even thought of calling all of their friends. Wes, at least, knows what is going on and has probably called a majority of them. At some point he should probably call Rachel and Mitch. She'll want to know what's going on. And if Wes has already called her, she's probably freaking out.

There is one person though, he needs to talk to right now. One person who will be able to give him the strength to get through the next few days, hell, the next few hours. He ignores the feeling that it's wrong. Ignores every promise he's made to himself and his husband and pulls his phone out of his pocket with a shaky breath. Is he crying? When did that start?

"I'm just..." Blaine looks at his mom, unsure how to explain himself right now. He doesn't think she'll care about who he's calling, but Cooper sure as hell will and he knows that his mom will tell his brother. "I'll see you back in Liv's room, alright?"

She gives him an understanding nod, hugs him tightly and then leaves.

"Oh thank God," Kurt answers his call on the first ring. All it takes is the sound of his voice to let Blaine know that he's made the right decision in calling him.

"I don't know how to do this," Blaine cries, breaking down in a way he hasn't for years. Not since college. Not since his dad died. And not since the breakup.


	2. Hours

He's stopped counting shaky breaths in and out since his husband has come out of surgery. Since he's been able to walk up to that hospital bed and feel the familiar warm hand in his own. Instead he's dependent on the quiet ticking of the clock to keep him sane. He has time. There are still steady beeps of equipment surrounding them. The steady rise and fall of his husband's chest is still due to a machine. But as long as those machines stay on, he doesn't have to stay goodbye until he's ready.

Hell, as long as those machines stay on, every shift of that little hand drives them further away from the attack and closer to healing. Every passing hour away from those traumatizing minutes is another hour that they are all still here. And he could still wake up. Miracles happen. They've survived this long. Who's some stranger in a white coat to tell him that Jake isn't strong enough to overcome this?

No. They've never let stupid assholes bring them down before. They certainly aren't starting now.

_16 Hours. _

"In other news, Columbus Police are investigating a brutal attack that happened yesterday afternoon at a playground near Salem Elementary School. NBC 4's Melissa Johnson is on the scene."

Blaine freezes as he notices the playground from yesterday on the screen. He hadn't been watching the news before, he'd just had it on in the background so the silence of the room wouldn't drive him crazy. But now, he's glued to the screen. He knows he should turn it off. He's own memory of the attack is more than enough, he doesn't need another reminder, but he can't tear himself away.

"Thanks, Karen. Just yesterday afternoon, while many people were enjoying their Thanksgiving meals, a young couple and their daughter were brutally attacked. Eyewitness reports are claiming that the attack was due to the adult victims' sexual orientation. Blaine and Jake Anderson were at the park with their four year old daughter when they were beaten due to the men's sexual orientation. As you can see behind me, police are currently searching for clues as to the attacker's identity."

Blaine's hands are curled into angry fists. The new cast on his right hand is digging into his palm, but he can barely feel it. He can barely feel anything as the woman on the screen tells the entire world what happened to them.

"...One eyewitness report," she finishes as the screen flashes to another man.

"The two men were just sitting on a bench, they weren't bothering anyone. Then their daughter started screaming. She fell off of the slide and there was a little boy at the top laughing at her. I didn't see what happened next, I was trying to get my son so we could get back in time for dinner. But then I heard shouting. When I turned around, this guy was screaming at the girl's father. He was calling them all sorts of horrible names, and next thing I know, the guy has a bat in his hand and is hitting the man. It's a shame. Here is a loving family, trying to enjoy their holiday same as everyone else, and they are attacked for being gay. It's wrong and frankly embarrassing that these things are still happening in our state."

"And did you do anything when you saw all of this happen?" the reporter on the screen asks.

"I called 9-11. I wanted to do more, but my son was right there and I was scared for him... I wish I had."

The screen cuts back to the newsroom where Karen Young, the same woman that had been anchoring NBC 4 when he was in high school, begins speaking again.

"The victims, Jake, Blaine and Olivia Anderson, are currently being treated at Mount Carmel West. One of the victims, Jake Anderson, age 29, is in critical condition. Columbus Police are urging anyone that has any information on the case to come forward."

A black and white drawing, one that has a striking resemblance to their attacker appears on the screen and Blaine has to change channels at that point. His head starts to spin and he has a hard time catching his breath. He can hear the screaming and the yelling in his head.

"Fags!"

"Don't come near my son!"

"It's unnatural!"

He presses his hands to his ears and tries to hum a gentle melody to erase the memory from his brain. It doesn't work. The voices just keep getting louder and louder.

His phone vibrates on his lap and when he looks down, he sees that Kurt has texted him.

From Kurt:

**Don't watch.**

Blaine's not sure how he even knows about the report until he realizes that he'd texted Kurt at some point during the last five minutes. He doesn't even remember doing it.

From Blaine:

**It's going to be all over town.**

From Kurt:

**Hate to break it to you, it was on the front page of the New York Times this morning. **

Blaine starts to panic. There's going to be so many questions. So many people are going to start calling, voicing their concerns. He's not ready for it. This isn't something he wants to share with the world. Not when the world has done so little to protect him from the hate. It doesn't get to voice its concerns now.

From Kurt:

**Promise me you won't watch anymore? Or read anything? **

From Blaine:

**Is it bad?**

He knows he shouldn't want to know, but he can't help but be curious. If people are going to be talking about them, he wants to know what they are saying.

From Kurt:

**Just remember, you don't have to talk to anyone about this. It's none of their business what happened.**

From Blaine:

**They're blaming me, aren't they? **

He should have known that this would happen. He'd seen the police report from his first attack. He'd read the news article back then. He knows how nasty and insensitive the media can be when it comes to these things.

He probably deserves it. He should have done more to help Jake.

From Kurt:

**No. Nobody is blaming you. **

From Blaine:

**So what is it? **

His fingers are itching to pull up the New York Times ap on his phone, but he would rather know what he's getting into before he reads the article. He'd rather be prepared.

From Kurt:

**Just, when you read it... because I know you're going to... remember that you don't have to do anything. This is a private, family matter and you don't have to get involved.**

Kurt's cryptic message is all it takes for Blaine to pull up the report and read it himself. He's astounded. He's not sure how, in less than a day, they have managed to get so much information. Not only do they know the details of the attack, but they have written about his old attack. The one after the Sadie Hawkins dance.

The journalist is calling for change. And, by the looks of the comments section, he's not the only one. They are turning this into a political debate. They are calling for the Federal government's involvement... And, much as Blaine agrees with them, he's overwhelmed. This isn't about hate crimes, homophobia, or gay marriage and their right to have children. It's about his husband. It's about his Jake who is still in fighting for his life. It's about his family. _Him_. And he doesn't feel comfortable with any of this.

_58 Hours. _

From Blaine:

**The doctors don't think he's going to wake up.**

It's late, well past visiting hours. Olivia has been asleep for several hours and Blaine's family has been forced to go home as well with promises to return early the next morning. The doctor's words are still ringing in his ears. He knows that it wasn't the doctor's fault that Jake is in this condition, but he can't shake the rage he's feeling. None of this should have been happening. They were supposed to be back in New York already. Jake would be getting ready to leave for his graveyard shift at the hospital. Blaine would still be up, playfully trying to convince Jake to come to bed with him and forget about work. They were too young for this. This wasn't supposed to be their life.

From Kurt:

**What did they say? **

The response comes quicker than it should this time of night. It's late enough that Blaine knows he can't be texting him during a show. No, Kurt is most likely interrupting some important meeting over drinks to text him back. It makes him feel both warm and incredibly guilty. Kurt has a life away from him. He doesn't need to deal with all of this.

From Blaine:

**There's too much brain damage to ever recover. They want me to stop life support...**

He barely manages to type it out with the way his hands are shaking. The cast keeps getting in the way, which only makes him more aggravated. Normally, he would be at a gym working it out on a punching bag, but he isn't comfortable leaving Olivia or Jake and he's been told he's not allowed to "exert" himself due to the concussion. So instead, he's stuck dealing with it alone. Something he's never managed to figure out.

Barely a minute after he's sent the text, his phone is ringing.

"What do I do?" Blaine asks, forgoing any formal greetings. He's well past the point of politeness.

"That's not something I can answer for you," Kurt says. Blaine can hear music in the background and muttered excuses from Kurt that he can tell aren't intended for him. He wonders what he's interrupted, but quickly realizes he doesn't care. Not if it means getting to talk to his best friend.

"They want me to kill him, they want me to tell them it's okay to let him die. Who the hell asks somebody to do that?" Blaine says, his voice is quiet but harsh.

"I know this is hard, I can't even imagine. But you need to remember that the doctors didn't do this to Jake."

"I don't care! They want me to just turn off the machine that is keeping him alive! It's only been two days, what if he wakes up? They haven't even given him time to heal!"

He doesn't mean to yell, but he can't help it. Beside him, Olivia starts to wake up. He has to pull the blanket back up and set her stuffed alligator next to her to get her to fall back asleep.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I don't mean to take this out on you. You should just go back to what you were doing," he says.

"No." Kurt's voice is firm but compassionate. "I'm here to listen. I know... I know last time I wasn't, but I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I want to help you."

"What do I tell them?"

"You tell them you aren't ready," Kurt says. "You're his husband. They aren't going to do anything without your consent..."

"But?" Blaine asks, knowing that it's coming.

"But..." he says, pausing a minute. Blaine hears a door close and suddenly all the music and talking from before is gone. "You can't completely ignore everything they say just because you don't like what they are saying."

"Is it stupid to think he might wake up?" he asks.

His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. The question has been on the tip of his tongue all day, but he's been too afraid of the answer to ask. Knows if he asks his family he'll only hear what he wants to hear. Knows the doctor will give him brutal honesty without trying to sugarcoat it. But Kurt, Kurt will answer him honestly but compassionately.

"I don't think anyone would call you that. He's your husband; nobody expects this to be easy for you."

"I have to let him go, don't I?" Blaine asks.

"You don't have to do anything, yet. Do some research. Ask for a second opinion. Don't do anything that you'll question later," Kurt says.

"I never thought I would have to make this kind of decision, not for many years."

"Did you two ever talk about this? About what might happen?" Kurt asks, he sounds slightly uncomfortable asking the question.

"No, not really. I mean, we have a will. Wes had us put one together when Liv was born. But we didn't... we discussed what would happen if one of us..." Blaine gets choked up before he can finish.

"Hey, hey, he's not dead yet. You don't have to make that decision until you're ready."

"We talked about what would happen if one of us got sick. But we would have had time to prepare for that. We talked about what would happen if we died in an accident, but neither of us... we didn't think that... We didn't think we would ever have to make a call like this," Blaine begins to ramble as his breathing gets more and more shallow. He's about to have another panic attack. It would be his fourth since getting to the hospital and he's beginning to question his sanity.

"Breathe," Kurt says in a soft, soothing voice. "You're strong enough to get through this. Just breathe."

"What if I'm not?"

"Then I'll be strong for you," Kurt says. "You're not alone."

_73 Hours. _

Blaine sits in the chair next to Jake's bed, praying for the strength to get through this. He's never been a man of belief. He's experienced far too much hatred in the world to ever want to believe in a higher power that would allow such things to happen. But Jake does. He's always turned to prayer when he's needed it.

So, Blaine finds himself here. His hands are gripped tightly and his forehead is resting against them. He's begging for somebody to take care of Jake when he's gone. To hold him when he finds out that his mother's hatred was so powerful that she refused to visit him in the hospital. To make him laugh when he gets too stressed to see straight. To remind him that he's beautiful and perfect the way he is. That, if there really is a life after this for Jake, somebody is there to love him the way Blaine has for the past ten years. The way he won't be able to anymore.

He's begging for somebody to take care of Olivia and himself. There had been vows for a reason. Their family was always supposed to be the three of them...

Suddenly, he's got his head on Jake's chest, sobbing. Overwrought with emotions. Crying for him to wake up. Not to leave him. It's too much, too soon. He's not going to be able to do this. He doesn't know how to lose the person who's kept him together for so long.

But he has to. The nurse is going to be back with the paperwork soon. He's going to have to sign the papers that allow the hospital to turn off the machines that have been keeping Jake alive for the past three days. He's going to have to watch Olivia, still too young to understand what death really means, try to say goodbye to her father. He's going to have to say goodbye himself, knowing that his words will be falling on deaf ears. Everything that's made Jake Jake, is already gone. Was erased days ago.

There have already been too many questions and he knows there will only be more. Does he want a priest? Is he sure? Does he want Olivia in the room when they pull the plug? How is he going to explain this to Olivia? Should they try to call Jake's family again?

He doesn't know how to answer most of them. Doesn't want to have to answer the ones he can. He wants to scream out. Several times, he already has. He's told the nurses at least eight times in the past hour that he's changed his mind. He can't do this. That Jake's young and he just needs more time to recover. Jake can recover from this, he just needs more time.

God, _Blaine_ just needs more time. Ten years isn't anywhere near the forever they had agreed upon. He'll wait years if it means Jake will just wake up. If it means he'll get to see those green eyes staring back at him again. But he in the end, he keeps coming back to the truth. He knows what he's going to do. It's the only option he has. He might be willing to sit by Jake's beside for the rest of his life, but Olivia doesn't deserve two absent fathers. Jake wouldn't want to live a life like this.

He can't be selfish. He has to let him go.

"Will it hurt?" Blaine asks as one of Jake's doctors comes into the room to check him over. Sara is her name. Blaine made it a point to learn it over coffee and an apology last night. He had taken his anger out on her unfairly, not that she had blamed him.

She sighs, stopping what she's doing to pull a chair over and sit next to him.

"No," she says.

Blaine nods, though he doesn't quite believe her. He doesn't know how it couldn't hurt.

"How long will it take after..." He can't bring himself to finish that question. He still can't bring himself to say the word aloud, even if his mind has been screaming it for days.

"It depends. Everyone is different," she says in a soft voice. "Some patients can survive a few days after, some only a few minutes."

"Is there a chance that he could wake up?"

"If we thought that was an option, we wouldn't have suggested this," she says. He can see that her eyes are watering. It makes him feel a little better. These doctors aren't heartless. They made a pledge to save any life they could, they didn't come to this decision lightly.

"I just keep thinking if I wait one more hour, one more day..." he says, holding back a sob.

"This is your call, we won't do anything until you're ready."

"What would you do?" he asks.

It's not the first time he's asked the question. He'd asked his mother earlier today, but when she'd had to make this decision, his dad had been sixty-five. He'd been able to watch both of his sons grow up. This was different; they were both still so young. Olivia was still so young.

"Honestly?"

He nods. Everyone's been tiptoeing around him, he just wants somebody to talk to him like his not going to break...even if he is.

"I would have said no," she says, her voice a little shaky. "I would want to wait forever for my husband to wake up, but..."

"But?"

"But I'd eventually come to the same realization I think you're coming to now," she says.

"Which is?" he asks.

"That hospitals are expensive, especially the ICU. And while money isn't everything, my husband would rather me spend our money on college funds than hospital bills. And my kids need a parent. I wouldn't be able to be there for them the way they really need if I was living in a hospital. And I don't think my husband would want to live life like this. I think he would want me to let him go. But that's just me. I'm not going to tell you what to do."

They sit in silence as Blaine takes in everything she says. He knows that she's right. It only confirms what he's already known. It's time to let go. No matter how long they wait, the decision won't get any easier. And he owes it to Olivia to try and get their life together. Broken and empty as that new life might be.

"When?" he asks after several minutes.

"Once the papers are signed and you say it's okay."

"I'm going to need time to say goodbye," he says, his voice hitching. "I need to talk to Olivia..."

"Nobody is rushing you. We won't do anything until you say it's alright."

_92 Hours. _

"Am I gonna dies too?" Olivia asks, her lip trembling as Blaine pushes her down the hall and towards the ICU.

"What?" he asks, stopping to move around and kneel in front of her. "Why would you think that?"

"Hossitals are where peoples goes to die."

"What, no, Liv." Blaine takes her small face into his hands gently and forces her to look at him. Her eyes are still red from crying all day and they are filling with tears again. His heart breaks even more just looking at her.

He debates taking her back to her room so she doesn't have to deal with this. But he knows that it's important for her to get a chance to say goodbye. That the social worker they'd had him talk to this morning told him it was important for Olivia to be included in this. That it would help her healing processes in the long run.

"Hospitals and doctors are good people. They do everything they can to help you when you are hurt. And they've really helped Papa. They made sure that he's not hurting anymore. But we talked about this, they can't fix everything. And it's Papa's time to go to heaven."

"But God doesn't need Papa. I needs Papa. Tell God he has enough peoples," she says, stubbornly crossing her arms across her chest.

"Liv..."

"No!" she yells, causing several heads to turn their way.

Blaine doesn't know what to say. By this time, they are both crying in the middle of the hallway. He leans in to pull her into a hug. She clings onto his shirt so tightly that he's going to have tiny finger sized bruises on his chest, but he doesn't care. Their bodies are shaking with the strength of their sobs.

"Snot fair... ryone else gets their papa..." her voice is muffled by his shirt but he hears enough to know what she's saying.

"Hey, Littlebit," he says, trying to get her to look back up at him. She just nuzzles into him deeper. He gently grabs her arms and pulls her away from him.

"I know this is hard. And we will miss Papa every day. But you still have me. And I still have you. We will do this together, okay? You're going to have me."

She nods her head, slowly, biting her lower lip. It's a habit that is so Jake that it stabs at his heart. He's going to have to get used to this. With her light brown hair and green eyes, he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to look at her and not think of Jake.

"Daddy." Olivia puts her little hands on his face and begins to wipe away his tears. "You will be okays, too. G'ama said is okay. He was the bestest Papa in all the worlds, it's okays to misses him."

Blaine gives her a nod and a shaky smile. He doesn't quite trust is voice again, not yet.

"I'll help yous. I'll cleaned my room every day. I'll cook us toast if you burn my macaroonies and cheeses. I love you same as Papa."

"You don't need to take care of me, Liv. I'm going to be alright. And I promise, I won't burn your macaroni and cheese," he says with a small laugh.

"Okay..." she says, giving him a doubtful look. "Cause Papa saids you aren't allows to cook."

"I'll learn," he says, thinking of all the little things he's now going to have to figure out how to do. "Or I'll take you to Trevino's for dinner every night. We'll be okay."

"Okay. Daddy?" she asks, wiping her nose on the edge of her sleeve. Normally, he would cringe and lecture her about using a tissue, but he's past the point of caring about such trivial things.

"Hmm?"

"We can go see Papa now," she says. Her voice is strong, determined.

Blaine nods, giving her one last hug before he stands up and begins pushing her down the hall again. They walk in silence as they make their way to the ICU. When he gets there, his mother instantly comes over to pull Olivia into a hug and whisper quietly to her.

"You two can do this," Cooper says, putting a comforting hand on his back.

He's eternally grateful that he's got his family here to support him. He doesn't know what he would have done if he didn't have them here. He's had enough on his plate trying to be there for both Jake and Olivia.

"I hope so," Blaine says. "I haven't... I don't know what happens after. I've spent so long preparing for this that I haven't thought about what happens when we go back to New York and it's just the two of us."

"You don't have to go back," Cooper says, giving him a knowing look. "You're more than welcome to stay here. You know that Mom or I would take you in and help you with her. At least until you felt comfortable."

The offer is tempting, but he can't accept it. He's spent too many years in this town surrounded by hateful bullies who have made his life living hell. Ever since he was fourteen and spent two months lying in his own hospital bed, he's known that his only chance at happiness was beyond the Ohio borders. The thought of staying here any longer than necessary, after all of this, it's too much.

"I know, but New York is our home," he explains and leaves it at that. He knows that his older brother can read between the lines. That he knows the real reason Blaine doesn't want to stay. But, thankfully, he doesn't call him on it.

"I understand."

Blaine nods and walks over to take Olivia from his mom. He's requested that everyone wait outside so that they can have private time, just the three of them.

"What's that thing around his mouth?" she asks as he pushes her over to the bed. He gets her as close as he can without taking her out of the wheelchair and moves back to give father and daughter some space.

"It's helping him breathe," he explains. He's prepared himself the best he could for this. He knew that she would have a lot of questions. She's always been an inquisitive child.

"It looked like a snickle," she says. Her hands reach out to touch it. He's about to tell her to stop, when she pulls her hand away on her own.

"A snorkle?" he says with a small smile. "Yeah, I guess it kind of does."

"Papa likes snickling," Olivia says, turning to give him a big smile.

"He loves it," he says. "Especially now that you can swim with him."

He pictures the three of them in the Cayman Islands. Olivia and Jake with their ridiculous flippers on, Blaine standing by with camera in hand, snapping pictures. Had that really only been three months ago? It seems like a lifetime away.

"Who's going to snickles with me now?" she asks.

"I will," he promises.

"You hate snickling. You tolds Papa that you'rea scared of the sting-a-rays."

"Nah, they're not so bad," he lies.

She looks at him, doubtfully, but turns back to Jake without another word.

"Papa?" Olivia says, tentatively. She reaches out her hand for his. She grips it in her own and stares at it confused when Jake doesn't grip back.

"It's okay, he knows you're here. Just talk to him," Blaine explains, knowing that feeling she's having. It's strange to hold his hand and not feel that reassuring squeeze back.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I was pushed and that man was so mad. I'm sorry he hurted you. I tolds him to stop... He didn't listened."

Blaine's heart shatters as he hears Olivia try and tell Jake that the attack was her fault. He has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep from screaming out. He knows that it's important for her to say what she's feeling. That this is the only chance she'll have to talk to her father and he needs to just let it go for now. But the thought of her blaming herself for Jake's death is too much. If he ever finds the bastard that did this to them, he knows he won't be able to hold back. That Blaine'll take his own aluminum bat to his head and see how he likes it.

"I'ms gonna watch Daddy for you now. I won't letted him be sad. He's be sad without you. More sad that the whole oceans. But I'll tried hard to make sure he smiles. You said his smile makes you happiest. I wants you to be happiest in heaven. Ga'ma and me asked God today to make sure you're happiest."

Blaine's knees begin to feel weak and he has to sit down before he falls to the ground. He buries his face in his hands and wills himself to be alright. He can't look at her. Not while she's being so strong. Not while he knows that this is the last time he will ever see Jake and Olivia together.

He can tell that Olivia is barely getting through this because she's started crying. Her lisp, the one that has started to go away but is still prominent when her emotions are heightened is back in full force. It's almost difficult to understand her, but he's had practice.

"If you don't likes heaven you can come'd back. Daddy said you won't come'd back. You're going to like heaven too much. I know, Ms. Hannah at thunday classes said heaven is the bestest. But if she's lying, you can come'd back. Cause Daddy and I loves you more than God. 'Member that. Otay? Don't forgetted me. I love you so so much. More than the moon."

Oh God. He can't do this. He can't let the doctors take Jake away. They need him too much...

"Daddy?" Olivia's voice breaks him out of his momentary break down.

"Hmm?" he hums, not trusting his voice to hold out.

"Will you telled him that he can come'd back?"

Yes, he thinks. God, he'd tell him anything if it would work. But it won't. He knows better. And he can't let her think that he will. It won't be good for her to constantly be waiting for him to walk back into their lives.

"Sweetie, he can't," he says, his voice breaking.

"I know that. But—But if he wants too..."

"No, sweetie, he can't," he says as firmly as he can without upsetting her. She needs to understand that this is a permanent thing.

"What if he doesn't likes it? What if they are means to him for being two daddies?"

"They won't be mean to him," he says.

It's a painful conversation to have. Jake has brought her up in the church. Has taught her to believe in heaven and the power of God, but Blaine just doesn't. He doesn't believe that anyone would make him gay then have his followers persecute him for it. Doesn't know how Jake continued to believe when his own family disowned him for being a sinner. But he knows that the thought of heaven is comforting for her—hell it's comforting for him—so he bites down his bitter remarks about God and does what he can for Olivia.

"They are going to love him, just like we do," he says.

"He won't want to come back?" Her face falls and it makes him cry.

How can she think that her father won't want to come back to her. That Jake hasn't fought like hell to be here with the two of them now. Blaine knows that much is true. He's heard the nurses talk about how surprising it is that Jake has held on this long. It just... his body isn't strong enough to survive. It has nothing to do with how much Jake loves them...

"Oh, I'm sure he wants to come back. He'll always want to be with you. But it's okay. He'll be waiting for us when we're ready."

"I'm ready now," she cries, turning back to grab Jake's hand with both of hers. "I want to go with. Tell the doctor to turn off my machined too!"

His heart catches for a minute. For just a split second his mind flashes to an image of two coffins being lowered into the ground. He has to take a deep breath to remind himself that she's still here. That the bastard that did this didn't take her away as well.

"It doesn't work like that," he explains, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She turns around as much as she can while in a chair and wearing a cast from ankle to upper thigh. She fixes him with a desperate, begging look that he's never seen on her before. "Why not? We can both go, we won't be alone then."

"Sweetheart, we can't," he cries. "Okay? We have to stay here. Papa wants us to stay here."

"It's not fair!" she yells, pushing roughly against his stomach. He knows that she's not really angry at him. He knows that this is just a normal stage of the grieving process, but it still hurts to see her pushing him away like this. Still makes him think, not for the first time, that Olivia would be better off if he and Jake switched places.

"I know it's not fair. But we talked about this, things aren't always fair," he forces himself to say.

"He called you fats," she says, her voice now barely a whisper.

"What?" he asks, leaning in closer to hear her better.

"That bad man at the parks, he called you fats."

"What?" he asks, his brain trying to process what she's saying. "Oh... oh, no. He... I don't..."

What was he supposed to tell her. That they had been called fags? Explain to her that her papa had been beaten up because he loved another man?

"And you're not even fats! Tony's daddy is fatter than yous and papa and he didn't get hits!" She slams her hands down hard on the arms of the wheelchair and he has to grab her hands before she can hurt herself.

"This isn't because your papa was fat, sweetheart," he says soothingly. He knows it's no use covering up the truth. She'll find out eventually and he'd rather be the one to explain it to her. "It's... you know how sometimes people look at you because you have two daddies and we always tell you to ignore them because they are just sad that you get two daddies and they don't?"

"That man was mad because he doesn't have two daddies?" She looks confused. "I would have shared. I'm a good sharer. Ask Ms. Green at school!"

"I know you're a good sharer. You're a great little girl. I just..."

God he's not cut out for this. He was never supposed to give these talks alone. He looks over at Jake and silently begs for him to wake up and help him out.

"He doesn't think anyone should have two daddies. He was angry and wrong. So wrong."

"I don't care that you're gay," she says. Her voice is lisp-free and sounds far too old for her four years.

He gives her a questioning look, unsure where this has come from.

"I saw my other Ga'ma on TV. The one that yous and Papa never talk about," Olivia says, wiping her tears away. "She said that it's Papa's fault for being gay. Uncle Cooper said that she is sad because she didn't want Papa to love you. But she's wrong. I don't care that you two loves each other. I'm glad you did. You maded Papa smile bigger than a crocadillie and I don't thinked that's wrong."

"Thanks, Littlebit. You made Papa smile bigger than a crocodile, too."

"I know," she says with a small smile and holds out her arms for a hug.

He pulls her in tightly and whispers a quiet, "I love you," into her ear.

"Is it time now?" she asks.

He just nods. She turns back to Jake and kisses his hand softly.

"Goodbye, Papa. Ga'ma said you're going to goes away now, but when you wake up, you'll be okay again. I love you."

_94 Hours. _

After the machines are stopped and the heart monitor silenced, Blaine requests that the breathing tube be taken out. He doesn't know how long this will take, but he wants to be able to remember his last moments with Jake with him looking as normal as possible. The doctors remove the tubes and leave to give them privacy. Cooper and his wife have Olivia down the hall, far enough away from all of this. She's said her goodbye, she doesn't need to watch her papa die. His mother is still here, refusing to leave him.

Blaine climbs into bed with Jake and pulls him close, no longer needing to be concerned with pulling on IVs or accidentally unplugging machines. He places his head on Jake's chest and takes comfort in the continued rise and fall of his chest. He closes his eyes and pretends that they are far away from all of this. Far away from the hospital, the hatred, and the media circus that, for him, will always be associated with Ohio now.

Instead, he pictures them in their first apartment in the Bronx. The one with the closet sized bedroom and broken bathroom door. Pictures them lying in their bed, the one that Jake had proposed in. Imagines it's Jake's hands rubbing soothing circles on his back, rather than his mother's. It's easier this way. It's easier to say goodbye to him with a happy memory. Easier to forget about the horror that has been the past few days. Easier to imagine there's no cast on the arm that pulls desperately at Jake's waist. It's all at once more painful than he could have ever expected but calming. Because he knows that he's made the right decision. Knows that this is what he would want if the roles were reversed.

It takes six hours, but Blaine remains with him the entire time. For six hours, he allows himself to escape into an old memory of twenty two year old boys happy, healthy, and unbelievably in love. When the steady rise and fall stops, Blaine knows that Jake is okay. There is no more pain for him. But when that steady rise and fall stops, Blaine knows that his own heart may as well have stopped as well. Because he's never going to get over this.


	3. Days pt 1

After Jake dies, it becomes pointless to look at the clock. Blaine's life is no longer defined by time, but instead by the rise and fall of the sun. The rise that requires him to pretend. That requires him to be together and responsible so that what little he has left doesn't fall apart. But the fall, the darkness of night brings him sleep. It brings him an escape where he can disappear into dreams. A place where he can be with Jake again and pretend, even if it's just for a few hours, that his life isn't a mess.

His mother tells him that it's normal. That if he can just focus on getting through the day, each x off the calendar will bring him closer to healing. The pain won't ever go away, but he'll learn to deal with the constant ache. Because it's just too much. The crushing guilt of surviving, the frantic need to reach out and hold on... the need to be held.

But if he can survive the day, he can escape into the dark of night and the warmth of a decade of happy memories.

_5 Days._

"Thank you for coming in, I know that it's been a long few days for your family," Detective Williams explains to him as he leads him over to a private office. It's not the steel tables and double sided mirror that you see in crime shows. It's just a regular office. Cluttered and cramped, but cozy. It helps him relax. He's not on trial here, he's the victim.

There's a woman waiting in the office. She stands up as soon as he walks in. She's short, has brown hair that's pulled back in a messy ponytail and is wearing a grey, long-sleeved dress. She looks professional, if not a little bit tired and frazzled.

"Hi, I'm Jane Miller," she holds her hand out to him. He takes it tentatively, unsure who she is or why exactly she's here.

"Blaine Anderson," he says, proud of how strong his voice is after crying all morning.

He's just come from the hospital. He's wanted to leave that building since Jake passed yesterday, but Olivia isn't set to be released until later this afternoon. He's hoping to get any police business out of the way as fast as he can so that they can return to New York. He's more than ready to get out of this town. It's filled with too many memories.

"I'm from the Victim Witness Assistance Unit and I'm here to help you with whatever you need, both today and in the future," she says.

He nods, unsure what she expects from him, and turns back to Detective Williams.

"You said on the phone that you needed me to ID a suspect?" Blaine asks.

"We do, but we'll get to that later," he says. "Why don't you have a seat."

Blaine takes a seat in one of the open chairs and Jane sits in the chair beside him. Detective Williams moves around his desk and shuffles through his papers for a minute, looking for something.

"There are a few formalities that we need to get out of the way before we have you identify our suspect. You still need to fill out a formal statement on what you witnessed. And there are a couple more questions that we never got to ask at the hospital," he says sliding a pen and clipboard across the desk.

Blaine picks it up and stares at the blank form, baffled. How can an event that has transformed his life so radically be boiled down to a one-page form? It's absurd.

"Just write down everything that you can remember about what happened," Jane says, gently. "The more information you can give the detectives, the better."

"Okay," he says, not sure where to start. He gets as far as writing down his name before he's dropping his pen in frustration. This isn't right. His husband is dead. Some jackass killed him and he's supposed to just write a paper about it like it's some class project? It's wrong.

"It's alright. I understand how hard this must be for you. Just remember, we are here to help you," Jane says.

"Mr. Anderson, we really want to get the guy that did this to you, he's going to pay for what he did," Detective Williams says.

Jane sends the detective a meaningful look, and soon he's backing out of the room, claiming he's going to get Blaine coffee.

"There's no pressure, just write whatever you remember," she says, picking back up the pen and handing it to him. "Take as much time as you need."

Blaine takes the pen and forces himself to start writing. He's surprised, once he starts, just how much he has to say about the incident. He's been feeling powerless since it happened. Doctors, journalists, social workers and family have been so busy speaking on his behalf he hasn't gotten a chance to say much of anything. And damn, does he have a lot of things to say.

They had only been trying to enjoy a warm November day. He had only wanted to wear Olivia out a bit so that she would nap and stop bothering his aging mother as she tried to prepare Thanksgiving. Sure, the little boy had pushed Olivia and broken her leg because she had two fathers, but he was a child. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Jake hadn't even been angry at the boy. He had simply wanted to explain to his parents what had happened so they would be able to talk to him. It would have been traumatizing for Olivia, what with the surgery and the cast, but they would have managed. It should never have gone this far. They hadn't done _anything_ to deserve this.

No, Blaine has a lot to say. There is a rage that has been boiling inside of him for days. He can't remember ever being so angry and anyone in his life. And that is really saying something when you consider just how much prejudice he's had to deal with in his life.

Blaine continues to write until the entire page is filled, front and back, and he's still got more to say. There are holes in the paper from where he's pushed down too hard writing the horrible words they'd been called. Words like "fag," "cocksucker," "perverts," and "child molester."

He feels somebody taking the pen and clipboard from his hands, and looks up to see Jane giving him a sympathetic smile. He'd completely forgotten she was there.

"I want to see him," Blaine says, his voice harsh and bitter.

"Later," she says. "It's been a long few days for you and this has got to be a little overwhelming for you."

Blaine shrugs. He doesn't know this woman and he sure as hell doesn't want to sit here and pour his heart out to her. What is he supposed to tell her? That he misses Jake? Well he was his husband, that much should be obvious.

"Is there something you usually do to relieve stress?" she asks.

Blaine rolls his eyes. He hates talking to people about his problems. But she looks genuine enough and he can hear Jake telling him to let it out. Jake was a big believer in working out your problems with others. He had to be, it was how he made his living.

"Sometimes I box," Blaine says, shrugging it off like it's not important. Like it hasn't kept him from several murderous rampages in the past.

"Come with me," she says with an easy smile. She's pretty when she's smiling, he thinks to himself. The stress in her face isn't as noticeable. She reminds him a lot of his mother.

Blaine follows her as he's led down the hall and past a set of doors that says 'Training.' He's confused as the woman leads him through a locker room and out into a small gym. In the corner is a punching bag that they stop in front of. She grabs a pair of gloves and tosses them at him.

"I don't understand?" He looks at her confused. What was he expected to do? He's only got one good arm to begin with. Besides, he was here to identify a suspect so the police could arrest the man that murdered Jake. What did they care if he was alright or not?

"I've worked with a lot of people in similar situations to yourself. I know that look on your face and what it means," she says. "It's my job to do everything to help you, not to do anything else. The detective can wait, so just work out what you have to work out and we'll deal with everything else after."

Blaine feels weird, but he can't ignore the shaking in his hands. It's been there for days. He's needed this. Needs to get this out of his system. He needs to get his anger out before he goes off and murders the son of a bitch that did this to Jake. Olivia desperately needs him to stay out of jail, and the only way to do that is to calm down. As nice as it might be to punch out their attacker—to punch every single witness that had stood by and let this happen to them.

He pulls a glove over his un-casted hand, knowing that he'll regret not taping up his hand first. But that will come later. Now... now he'll welcome the pain. Welcome having a reason for the ache in his body. He throws his first punch and revels in the way the hard hit can be felt throughout his whole body.

He closes his eyes for a moment and puts himself back in that park. Pictures all the happy families that were there. All the fellow dads that had stood by and watched when they were capable of stopping this. He allows himself to remember the hateful glare that had been directed at Jake as the first swing of the bat connected with his skull. He throws another punch, harder this time, but still not satisfying enough. He pictures his face, holds it in his mind as he continues to hit the bag with more and more force.

He can already feel his arm beginning to ache from the continued abuse, but he ignores it. He takes a moment to wish that he could use both of his hands, thinks of how much more damage he could inflict with the full use of his body. But it's one more thing to blame that bastard for.

He blacks out everything else except for the bag and his memories for a long time. He continues to punch as the event plays out over and over in his mind. Each time it replays, he pictures another way he could have stopped it from happening. He shouldn't have tried to grab the bat. Should have snuck up from behind. Punched him in the gut. Snapped his wrist so he couldn't hold the bat. Punched him in the face harder. Gotten his own weapon... He should have done something more. Somebody should have helped them. God... so many things should have happened and not a single one of those involved Jake being the one that had to die to protect them. That was Blaine's job...

He doesn't know how long he stands there, continuing to throw punches, but he does know that when he finally comes back to himself he's so utterly spent that he collapses against the wall from sheer exhaustion. Detective Williams is back and standing next to Jane. He's not sure when the man came back and how long they've both been watching him lose himself.

"My sister is gay," Detective Williams says after what seems like a minute, but Blaine realizes must have been at least 15. "She's been with her partner for twelve years."

Blaine doesn't know if he's expected to say anything, and if so, what?

"I just... I want you to know that I'm going to fight like hell on this case. I take this as personally as I would if it had happened to my sister."

The admission comes as a shock. For years, he's viewed the police as enemies. As somebody that will help him when he needs it, but will always blame him. Hearing that the detective is going to fight for him. That he's on his side and understands, it's more than he can take at the moment. He mumbles out a quiet thank you and barely manages to avoid crying. He's finally got an ally.

The detective hands him a water bottle and Blaine takes it with a shaky hand. His arm feels like Jell-o. He knows that he'll be sore for several days. Doesn't know how he's going to manage carrying Olivia everywhere once she's released and still unable to walk. But those are problems he can worry about later. Those are welcome problems... ones with easy solutions and timelines. These are problems he can manage.

He doesn't know how to manage losing his husband forever just because some hateful, spiteful man hadn't liked his presence for five minutes.

"I want to see him," Blaine says, looking the detective right in the eyes so that he knows that he is serious.

"Okay," Detective Williams says.

Blaine pulls himself to his feet and stretches his arm out, giving himself a moment to mentally prepare for what's going to happen. He doesn't think he's ready to see his attacker again. But also knows that there is a pull at his heart that tells him he needs to do this. He has to do this. He needs to look at the man that did this to them. If not now, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to do it.

"What do I do?" Blaine asks.

"You're going to be taken into a room. You'll look at a lineup of people. If the man that attacked you is in the line, you need to identify the man for Detective Williams," Jane explains carefully.

Blaine nods, because that much he had known. He's watched enough crime shows to understand how a lineup works.

"Then what? What happens once I identify the man?"

"Well there's a few things that will happen after, before we can—" Jane starts to explain before she's cut off.

"Then we'll arrest the asshole," Detective Williams says. Jane glares at him, but doesn't say anything. Detective Williams just shrugs as if he's not sorry, even if he probably should be.

"Okay," Blaine says. His voice is more sure now. He can do this. The man can't hurt him from inside here. In fact, Blaine finally has the chance to hurt him back. All he has to do is point the man out and he's going to jail. He can't touch them anymore.

The two of them lead Blaine back out the way they came and they head down a different hallway. The detective opens a door and leads Blaine inside a small room. There's a few chairs, a small table and an empty water cooler. One wall is made up of a blacked out window, he knows this will be how he looks at the suspects. Knows that the men won't be able to see him. Blaine doesn't see the point of that. The man knows who they are. He'd looked them right in the eye when he attacked them.

Blaine wishes for the chance to look him in the eye again as he says the magic words that will have him locked up.

"Alright, take a seat here. I'll be back in a few minutes, alright?" Detective Williams says.

Blaine ignores the request, instead settling for pacing the room back and forth and playing with the edge of his cast. The door clicks shut and he is left with Jane again. He's worried that she's going to want to talk about how he feels, but she thankfully leaves him alone to his thoughts. He pulls at a loose thread on his sweatshirt. Runs hands through his messy hair. Taps out mindless rhythms on walls. He feels guilty, like he should be trying harder to appear put together in front of Jane. His Dalton upbringing never quite leaving him. But he's more anxious than he thought he would be. He's unsure why, he's completely safe. People do this all the time.

Still, he can't keep his hands still.

About fifteen minutes later, Detective Williams comes back with another man.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm Chief Harrison." The man holds out his hand and Blaine shakes it mindlessly.

Time starts to catch up with him and everything starts to feel that much more real. The beat of his heart. The click of Jane's pen. He's suddenly hyper-aware of everything, yet still in a fog. It's disorienting and strange. It's not something he's ever experienced before. There's a cough and a hand on his shoulder that feels heavy and ominous. He looks up at Detective Williams, who is giving him an encouraging smile.

He knows that he's missed everything the man has said to him, but nods his head anyway. He just wants this over with. The next thing he knows, he's staring into the eyes of the man who murdered his husband.

He's shorter than Blaine remembers him to be, but he remembers those eyes well. He's positive it's the guy and it makes his knees shake for a moment. He gets a heavy feeling in his head and suddenly he's cold. He doesn't understand what's happening to him until he looks down at his feet and sees Jake lying on the ground trying to get up as he's kicked in the stomach.

"Stop!" he yells, holding out his arms to stop the bat from colliding with Jake's skull. The metal hits his right wrist so hard that he feels it snap, but he doesn't have time to worry about his wrist when the bat is being lifted and swung again. This time it hits Blaine in the chest.

"Papa!" Olivia screams. Blaine looks over to see his daughter struggling to make her way over to them.

"Stay there!" he orders her. She's crying and screaming for the man to stop, but she doesn't come any closer, for which Blaine is thankful.

The man continues to kick Jake in the chest, stomach and head with his heavy boots as Blaine tries to stop him while avoiding the swing of the bat.

"Mr. Anderson!"

Blaine is jolted back to reality as two sets of arms pull him away from the window. He instantly tries to fight against them. He can still see the slimy bastard watching him through the window. He knows Blaine's there even if he can't see him. He doesn't even have the decency to look guilty.

"Fucking bastard!" Blaine yells. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking tear you apart!" he screams, fighting hard against the arms of the detectives.

"Blaine! Stop!" Detective Williams yells at him.

He's forced into a chair by two hands that are much stronger than his own.

"Calm down, alright?" Detective Williams says, giving him a warning look. "I told you that we would get him, but we have to do it by the book. You're not doing anyone any favors right now."

Blaine doesn't care if they do this by the book. Right now he doesn't give two shits if he gets arrested too, because he knows that all he needs is a minute. One minute and he'll be able to wipe that stupid smirk off the asshole's face and make sure that he never lives to see another day. He doesn't deserve to be here if Jake isn't.

"Hey, hey!" Chief Harrison yanks him back in his seat when he starts to stand up again.

Jane stands up from where she's been watching silently in the corner and pulls a picture out of one of her folders. It's Olivia's preschool photograph. The one she had taken a few months ago.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asks, his voice full of contempt.

"Take a look at this little girl," she says, her voice gentle but strong. "Do you know who this is?"

"Of course I know who she is, she's my daughter. My daughter who is in a cast because of that asshole!" he yells moving to get up again just to be slammed back into his chair.

"Well, look hard. Do you really want to miss out on watching her grow up? Do you want to see her once a month through a glass window? Get cards on holidays with her pictures and that's it? Because that's what's going to happen if you let this rage control you," she says.

Blaine takes a deep breath and tries to force his hands to stop trembling. His entire body is on overdrive, filled with more emotion than he realized was possible. He's on edge and just wants to beat something up. Thirty minutes with a punching bag hadn't been nearly enough to get all of his rage out. Not when he could still see it all so clearly.

"Just tell us what number he is, Blaine. Tell us the number and we can lock him away for a very long time," Detective Williams says. Blaine can hear the anger in the other man's voice, can recognize the hunger for blood. It helps bring him back to himself. Reminds him that he doesn't have to fight this battle alone.

"Three. Number three," he says through clenched teeth.

"Good," he says, moving to press a button and suddenly the window is blacked out again.

"We'll give you some time," Chief Harrison says.

The two men leave the room sharing significant looks. Blaine is dying to know what it means and what happens next. Needs to know that the bastard is going to jail. That he's going to get the chair for doing this to his family. It's the only option he's going to feel comfortable with.

"Is there somebody you would like me to call?" Jane asks, setting her folder, as well as the picture of Olivia, down and moving to stand in front of him.

"Yeah, my husband," Blaine snaps.

He stands up and throws the chair he was sitting in against the wall. Jane jumps back, startled. The look of fear on her face, so similar to Olivia's, mixed with the sound of medal hitting the wall, too familiar to be comfortable... it's too much. He's sinking to the floor and dry heaving.

He makes it to his hands and knees before he starts sobbing gut wrenching sobs. The kind of heavy sobs that make it feel like all of his organs are going to come out of his ribcage. It's messy and unattractive and he has a moment where he desperately hopes that Jake wasn't right about heaven because he doesn't want to know what his husband would say if he could see the mess he has become.

He can't do this. He can't be a father by himself. He can't even be a whole person by himself, how is he expected to take care of somebody else when he can't even take care of himself.

He vaguely recalls the sound of the door clicking open and shut, but it doesn't register. Nothing registers to him until Cooper eventually comes into the room and pulls him into his arms. Blaine realizes that he must have been in that room crying his heart out for a long time, because he knows for a fact that Coop had been at the hospital across town when Blaine arrived at the station. Jane must have found his number and called him to pick Blaine up. It's for the best. There's no way he can do anything by himself at the moment.

"Shh, shh, it's alright," Cooper says, pulling Blaine's head into his lap and stroking his hair as he continues to cry. "It's going to be alright now. I'm here."

Blaine lets himself believe Cooper's words. Let's himself trust that his family will help him get through this and they won't let him mess this up. He continues to cry in his brother's lap and is grateful that Cooper never once mentions the sheer amount of tears and snot that Blaine has gotten on his pants. He just continues to run a soothing hand through his hair until his tears finally subside.

"You ready to get out of this place?" Cooper asks once Blaine has gotten his breathing back under control and can sit up on his own.

"Yeah," he says, pulling himself to his feet. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, you had an emotional breakdown in the middle of a police station, I'm sure you're not the first," Cooper says with a forced laugh.

"What time is it?" he asks, his voice sounding hoarse from the strain all his yelling and crying.

"Time for you to go home and clean up so we can go pick up Olivia without her having to see her father looking like something from Walking Dead."

"Nice," Blaine says, punching Cooper in the arm half-heartedly. He still wasn't in the mood for joking, but he appreciated that Cooper was still trying.

_6 Days._

From Kurt:

**Is it true? **

Blaine's phone lights up from its spot on the table where he'd left it in favor of trying to feed Olivia breakfast. They've spent the night at his mother's. The hotel they had been staying at earlier in the week had offered to let them continue to stay free of charge as long as was needed, but Blaine didn't feel comfortable staying there. He doesn't feel comfortable anywhere in Ohio anymore, but if they can't leave yet, his mother's apartment is the closest sanctuary they will find.

"Who's that, Daddy?" Olivia asks, moving to try and grab the phone with her syrup coated hands. He quickly moves it out of her reach. He can't respond to Kurt at the moment, as curious as his text has made him.

"Just one of Daddy's friends. Stop playing with your food and eat," Blaine says.

"Uncle Wes? I wanna see." She reaches out again for the phone.

"It's not Uncle Wes," Blaine says, putting a bite on a fork for her and feeding her. He hasn't had to feed her since she was two, but he's been warned that this might happen. That she might regress a bit. That she might become more dependent. He's been warned about a lot of things regarding Olivia and how she would be changed forever now. In trying to be helpful, none of the doctors or social workers had remembered to tell him what he needed to hear most. That she would be fine and they would get through this together.

"I wanna see Ashy," she whines. She's been whining all morning. It's grating and he can feel a headache beginning to form, but he reminds himself to be patient. She's been through a lot.

"Ashley is back in New York with her family. When we get back, we can call Uncle Wes and see if Ashley can come over. But for now, eat your pancakes. We need to get moving."

"Don't wanna," she says with a defiant cross of her arms.

"Well, tough love kid, you've got to eat them," he says, fixing her with a stern look. She's always been a picky eater, but she doesn't usually have problems with pancakes.

"Don't tasted like Papa's," she says, sadly poking at the pancake with her finger.

Blaine doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't have the heart to continue to force her to eat if it's making her sad about Jake. But he also knows that she needs to eat something, otherwise they'll be dealing with an even crankier toddler today.

"They taste like Grandma's," Cooper says, walking into the room and putting his coat down. He's obviously just arrived, but has heard the last of their conversation.

"I want Papa's panedcakes," she says.

"Well that's a shame," Cooper says, leaning over and taking a bite for himself. "Because these are delicious. Did you know that they were your Papa's favorite? He loved Grandma's pancakes."

"Really?" Olivia asks, turning to Blaine for confirmation.

"Yep," he says with a shaky smile.

She tears off a small piece with her hands, ignoring the fork that Blaine is handing her. She licks it at first, and then, after a moment, finally eats it.

"It's better than Donalds," she says, picking up the fork to eat the rest on her own.

"Way better than McDonalds," Cooper says ruffling her messy hair.

"Thanks," Blaine says. He doesn't know how he's going to do this by himself when they go back to New York in a few days.

"I see you two aren't ready," Cooper teases.

"It's been a long morning," Blaine says. He's exhausted. He didn't get nearly enough sleep last night thanks to Olivia's constant nightmares.

"Can you watch her for me? I'm going to go take a shower," Blaine asks, quickly pocketing his phone before his nosey brother can go through his messages.

"No problem," he says.

"If she finishes, her clothes are laid out on the bed."

Blaine quickly disappears to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, and as he waits for the ancient pipes to heat up enough, he pulls out his phone.

From Blaine:

**Is what true? **

From Kurt:

**News reports are saying that they arrested the man. His wife turned him in?**

Blaine sighs. Of course it is already national news. He doesn't know if he'll be able to get used to the media circus all of this has become. His family has done a good job of sheltering him from it, but they won't always be there for him. He feels bad, but he's hoping that something horrible happens somewhere else in the world. That way the news will have something else to talk about and he can get his privacy back.

From Blaine:

**She found out about it and turned him in. The police had me ID him yesterday.**

He sets the phone on the counter and gets in the shower. The warm water helps relieve the tension in his muscles from sleeping in awkward positions for the last week. He feels the ghost of fingers across his back. Practiced hands rubbing knots out of his shoulders. He has to close his eyes to keep the sob from escaping too loudly. He misses Jake so much.

From Kurt:

**What happens now? **

The text reads when he finally pulls himself out of the shower a half hour later. It's the question he's been asking himself. He has no idea.

_8 Days._

"Olivia, stay in your chair," Blaine says as he stands in line to buy snacks for the plane ride home. It's only an hour long flight, but he knows how badly flying affects Olivia's ears and wants her to have something to chew on.

"I wanna walk," she says, continuing to try and stand up. Blaine groans and pushes her back in the seat.

"We talked about this, you can't walk with that cast on your leg. You need to stay in your chair," Blaine says.

Olivia continues to struggle to get out, so Blaine has to set down their snacks on a nearby shelf and kneel down so he's level with Olivia.

"Stay in your seat," he says firmly.

"No!" she yells. A few heads turn to look at them. Blaine feels his heart rate pick up at the added attention. He doesn't like the thought of people looking at him. He's been paranoid recently.

"Yes," he says, pushing her back in her chair and holding her their while she flails back and forth. He winces as she kicks him in the chest and struggles to hold her shoulders back in her seat while grabbing onto her good leg with his free hand.

"No!" she screams. "I want Papa! I want Papa!"

She begins to cry hysterically and he notices he's getting an increasing amount of looks. Some are sympathetic mothers, understanding the pain of having a child at the airport. Others are judgmental businessmen, clearly thinking he's incompetent for being unable to control his child. While others are just... curious? He can see a hint of recognition in their eyes and it makes him want to throw up. He doesn't know what he'll do if they recognize him and start asking questions. He just wants to get back to New York and lock them up in their apartment, away from the world.

"Olivia, stop," Blaine says firmly. He wants to be understanding. He's tried to be understanding. But this is one fit too many and he's feeling his patience beginning to snap.

"You're the worstest Daddy! I want Papa inseded!" she yells. Her face is bright red. It reminds him of when she was a baby and she used to cry so loudly. When she used to get so upset that she would hold her breath until she passed out, scaring Jake and him half to death until their pediatrician assured them it was a common thing and she would grow out of it.

His head is pounding and he has to bite his tongue to keep from yelling back at her. He tries to tell himself that she doesn't mean it. But it's hard when his own mind has been telling him for days that the wrong parent died. Jake would have known what to do. Blaine? Blaine is just failing. Just like he'll continue to fail her and she'll grow to resent him.

"Now boarding flight number 6040 Delta Airlines."

"Shit," Blaine mutters under his breath. He takes one look at their discarded snacks and the line of people that have formed in front of him and decides they don't have time for food. Olivia will have to make do with whatever the airline provides.

He wheels his still screaming daughter to their gate and hands their boarding passes over to the flight attendant. The woman takes one look at him, struggling with one good hand, their two bags, the wheelchair and Olivia and waves over another attendant to help them onto the plane. They have to turn in the chair before boarding the plane and he struggles to hold onto Olivia as she continues to try and wiggle out of his grasp.

"I can walk!" she yells.

"And I told you the doctor said no," Blaine snaps.

He feels bad about it, especially after the flight attendant gives him a disapproving look, but he can't help it. He'd like to see her go through this and see how she manages.

They settle into their seats and he is incredibly grateful when a woman settles into the seat next to them and begins talking to Olivia. She's shy at first and refuses to answer the woman in anything except one word answers, but at least she's stopped screaming. He holds his breath when the lady asks what happened to Olivia's leg.

"A mean boy pushed me off the slide," she answers, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, no. That's not very nice," the lady says.

"He was mad I haded two daddies. But he can't be mad cause now I only have one daddy," Olivia explains, picking at the end of her sweater.

The lady looks shocked and looks up at him, instantly recognizing him. He's relieved when she chooses not to say anything and instead goes on to ask Olivia about her favorite story. Tired beyond belief, he closes his eyes for a minute, only to find the flight attendant shaking him awake an hour later. He'd slept through the entire flight. Olivia is looking at him with a smile. The first he's seen in days.

"Ready to go home, Littlebit?" he asks.

"Can we get pizza?" she asks, holding out her stuffed alligator for him to carry. He takes it and tries to stuff it into her small backpack.

"Sure," he says. Pizza will be far easier than trying to put together whatever they manage to have in their kitchen.

"Okay, les go," she says, unbuckling his seatbelt for him, trying to hurry him along. He stands up and stretches for a minute. They are one of the last people on the plane, which gives him a sigh of relief. He doesn't feel like fighting his way through a crowd.

"Sir, there's a wheelchair waiting for you at the gate," the flight attendant says, helping him get together all of their things. Olivia is trying to help pack her backpack but is only managing to create more of a mess as she continues to hand him things from inside that she doesn't want to carry.

"Thank you," he says.

"And your friend is waiting at the gate as well to help you," she says with a smile as she hands him the last of their stuff.

"Friend?" he asks, confused. He didn't think anyone was supposed to be meeting them at the airport.

"A Wesley Montgomery, I believe?"

"Oh thank god," he says with a sigh of relief. He's glad he doesn't have to deal with getting through the airport and getting a cab by himself.

"Uncle Wes!" Olivia shouts excitedly.

The two of them make their way to the gate and are immediately engulfed in a big hug.

"Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!" Olivia scrambles to get out of Blaine's arms and into Wes'.

"Oh my gosh," Wes says holding her at arm's length and looking her over. "Who is this little monster?"

"Is not a monaster, is Olivia!" she giggles.

"Olivia? No... my little Livie is much smaller than this. I think you ate her," he says pulling her in to playfully nibble at her neck. "Did you eat my baby girl?"

"No!" she says, laughing hysterically.

It's nice to see her laughing again, Blaine thinks. He wonders how long it will take him to laugh again.

"I no eat! It's me! I'm a big girl now!"

"Oh my, well I guess it is you, isn't it?" Wes says with a big smile. He sets her on his hip and kisses her on the cheek.

"I broked my leg," she says pointing to her cast.

"I heard," Wes says, picking up her little backpack from where it's fallen on the floor and putting it in the wheelchair. He gestures for Blaine to do the same with his bags. They both begin walking towards baggage claim. Wes carrying a talkative Olivia while Blaine pushes the wheelchair.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Blaine says once they reach baggage claim. Olivia is back in her chair and is entertaining herself by watching a seeing eye dog the man next to them has. She's always been fascinated by animals.

"Your mother sent me your flight information," Wes says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes, but don't you have work?" He asks. He doesn't want everyone dropping their responsibilities to take care of him. It's the reason he wouldn't let Cooper or even his mother come back to New York with him.

"I can afford to leave a few hours early to pick up a friend at the airport," he says.

"Daddy, is a helping dog," Olivia says, pulling him out of his conversation with Wes.

"Yes," he says. "He helps that man because he can't see."

"So the doggy makes him feel better?" she asks.

"Kind of. The dog helps him walk around safely and do other things," he explains.

"That's nice," she says. "We should get a helping doggie to helped us."

"We don't need a helping dog, babe."

"But he could helped me walk," she explains to him in an exasperated tone. "Then you won't push me and carry me."

"I don't think it works like that," Wes says. "But I'll tell you what. Next time you come over to see us, you can play with our dog."

"S'not the same," she grumbles.

Wes gives him a concerned look and Blaine waves him off.

"She's been grouchy the past few days," he explains. "You should have seen the fit that she threw at the airport."

"Well, you know Charlotte and I are always here if you need a break. Four year olds aren't the easiest, and now that it's just the two of you... well, don't be embarrassed to ask us for help. Ashley is always asking if Olivia can come over. She loves seeing her."

"Thanks, I'll try to remember that," he says.

"Daddy, why is that man taked our picture?" Olivia asks. Blaine and Wes turn in the direction that she's pointing and notice a man with an expensive looking camera snapping shots of them.

"I was worried about this," Wes grumbles.

"Let's just get our bags and go," Blaine says, pulling the hood of Olivia's coat up and angling them so that the man can't get a good photograph. He wonders if this is going to be his life now—famous for something so tragic he'd much rather forget it ever happened.


	4. Days pt 2

_9 Days._

Blaine wakes up to the sound of his cell phone alarm and a passed out four year old sprawled across his chest. Her cast is heavy and scratching at his thigh. He gently shifts out from under her and replaces himself with a pillow before she can stir awake. He has to get them up and ready so he can drop her off at Wes' and go to the funeral home. The coroner is supposed to be releasing Jake's body either today or tomorrow and he needs to deal with getting Jake from Ohio to New York for the funeral.

Jake's family has a lot in Toledo, but there's no way the Koleson's will allow him to be buried there. Besides, he knows that Jake wouldn't want to be with the family that disowned him when his true family is in New York. He's always considered New York City his only home. It wouldn't be right to have him anywhere else. Besides, _Blaine_ wants Jake close so that he and Olivia can always visit him.

There are burial details to sort out, legal issues to resolve and phone calls to be made. Wes has already agreed to handle all of Jake's affairs and work on making sure Jake's debts are discharged. They'll be getting life insurance, but between medical bills, the funeral and Blaine having to take time off of work now, it's not going to last long. He knows they wouldn't be able to afford Jake's extensive student loans as well. He's grateful for Wes' help. It's going to be hard enough calling all of their friends, he doesn't know if he could handle informing strangers that will only be interested in getting the proper paperwork and not sparing his feelings on top of that.

He looks around their small hotel room trying to remember where he threw his toiletries last night. He'd been so tired that everything was a blur.

The two of them had made it an impressive five hours at home together before it had become too much. Olivia couldn't sleep in her old bed without crying out for her Papa. Blaine couldn't deal with looking around their apartment and seeing Jake everywhere. In the dirty laundry that Jake and promised to do when they got home. The stacks of medical journals on the coffee table. He'd packed them both up and headed to the closest hotel. It was more expensive than he could afford, but it helped them survive the night, which was all that mattered to him.

He knows that they'll have to find a new apartment. Not just because the memories are too much to handle, but also because their rent is too high to manage on a single income. He needs to start looking for a smaller place, but has too much on his mind to worry about that now. For now, hotel rooms on credit cards will have to do.

"Daddy?" Olivia cries out for him as he's in the bathroom showering.

"I'll be out in a minute, Liv," he calls loud enough for her to hear.

He washes the shampoo out of his hair as fast as he can, nervous that she will try to get out of bed. She's been determined to walk on her own, and until they can meet with a doctor here and begin working with a physical therapist, that isn't an option. He shuts off the water and quickly wraps a towel around his waist before walking out of the bathroom to find a pathetic looking little girl.

"What happened?" he says with a soft smile. He hasn't quite been able to laugh yet, but he's starting to learn to smile. She's impossibly tangled in the blankets and her left arm is dangling off the side where a glass of water has fallen and is now soaking her favorite stuffed animal.

"Gator fell," she whines.

Blaine walks around the bed and picks the alligator up off the floor.

"It looks like Gator had a bath, he's all wet."

"I was gonna used the 'mote to reached Gator but water fell," she says with a deep sigh. "I can't played with him now, can I?"

"Not until he dries off," Blaine says, sitting him on the window sill so the sun can help dry him up. "Come on, let's get dressed so you can go to Ashley's."

He moves back to the bathroom to quickly dry off and change into his clothes.

"My tummy is talking," she calls out. When he peaks his head out, she is patting her belly and humming the hungry song that they used to sing together when she was younger.

"Okay, let's get you dressed and ready to go and we can stop and get some food for your hungry tummy," he says.

He's surprised how easily she responds when he sits her up and starts to change her clothes, considering what a disaster they had yesterday morning trying to get ready.

"Daddy," she asks as he is slipping her sparkly pink boots on. They are the only boots big enough to fit over her cast and it's too cold outside to put her in Mary Janes. "Are we going to live here now?" she asks.

"No, of course not," he says. "We've got our own home."

"Yeah," she says, though he can tell she's not entirely convinced.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" he asks, helping put on her My Little Ponies backpack and pulling her into his arms.

"Donalds?" she asks, her face lighting up.

"No, we have to start eating good food again or your body won't be healthy," he explains as he grabs his phone of the nightstand and heads for the door.

"So I won't die?" she asks. The question stops his heart. His eyes begin to swim and he has to take several deep breaths before he can think clearly. It's completely normal for her to be curious about death now. He blinks his eyes a few times, willing the tears away before Olivia can see them and get upset.

"You're not going to die. We just don't want you to be sick so we need to stay healthy, right?"

"I needs to eat veggietables?" she asks.

"You need to eat your vegetables," he says heading out of the hotel and in the direction of one of their favorite diners.

"Okay, you need to eat your veggietables, too. I want you healthy, too."

"It's a deal," he says, kissing her on the cheek.

_11 Days_.

"Hello?" Blaine answers the house phone a bit out of breath. He had been busy trying to do laundry and find a suitable dress for Olivia to wear to the funeral. He's already going to have to look for a new pair of dress shoes for her later on today, he hopes he doesn't have to go shopping for a new outfit as well. He's exhausted.

"Blaine Anderson?" an unfamiliar voice greets him.

"Yes?" Blaine isn't surprised, he's used to getting telemarketer calls on this line, but he is annoyed that he ran all the way over here just so somebody can try and sell him a new cable plan.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," the woman's voice instantly becomes more hostile.

"Excuse me?" He says, not knowing what else to say. He has a bad feeling in his chest. He doesn't know who this woman is, but he's more concerned about how she managed to get his number. And if she got his number, how many others have as well?

"That poor family is being torn apart because of what you did," she says.

He doesn't know why he doesn't hang up the phone. He knows that this is just another hateful person that he can't change. And quite frankly, after these two weeks, he doesn't want to. What's the point? People are going to say and do whatever they want and there's nothing he can do about it. Martin Peterson was arrested for killing his husband and the man is still refusing to admit that he did anything wrong.

"My husband was murdered," Blaine says with a tired voice, not having the energy to fight back.

"Your husband was a pervert and shouldn't have been allowed around children. He deserved what he got," she says. "And so will you."

"What?" he asks, suddenly worried, but the line goes dead before he gets an answer.

Blaine's heart begins beating fast and he can feel the beginnings of a panic attack. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing, remembering how Jake used to calm him down and talk him through them. It has the opposite effect, instead serving as a painful reminder of another thing he now has to do alone.

His vision starts to blur and his ears are throbbing with how loud his heart is. He covers his ears, trying to block out the sound, and sinks to the floor. He pulls the blanket off of the couch beside him, curls into a tight ball, and covers himself completely. The darkness always helps him feel safe again. Unfortunately, this is a bad one. He can't stop it or even slow it down. He never can, not without Jake.

He wonders how long it will be before somebody finds him and realizes how crazy he is. How utterly incapable he is at handling life. He wonders how long it will be before he's committed and Olivia is shipped off to live with more capable parents. He hopes social services will at least give her to Rachel. They usually side with birth mothers, right?

Eventually, he manages to calm himself down. It takes repeated deep breaths and a mental replaying of The Wizard of Oz in its entirety, but eventually he's able to crawl out from under the covers. His muscles are stiff and he knows he must have been in that position longer than he realized. The sun has started to set and he wonders how he's managed to lose the entire day.

He was supposed to pick up Olivia from Rachel hours ago. He wonders why she hasn't called, then he notices that the phone has been ringing non-stop since he's hung up. He thought the ringing in his ears had been imagined. One look at the answering machine tells him that there are 134 messages and the house phone continues to ring. He pulls out his cell phone, surprised to see that he only has two voicemails and five text messages. Strange. Nobody calls the house phone, so why won't it stop ringing when his cell is silent?

Too tired to deal with people, he walks over to the phone and unplugs it from the wall. Anyone that he wants to talk to knows to call his cell phone. The sudden silence is heavenly. He wants nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for the next week, but he can't sleep in Jake's bed and there's still too much to do before he can go back to the hotel.

He's now wasted the entire day. He's got to get clothes for Olivia and himself to wear tomorrow. He needs to finish the laundry and repack their overnight bags. He needs to pick Olivia up from Rachel's...

Olivia. He needs to make sure that she's okay.

"Hey Dad," Rachel answers brightly when he calls her. "We're just sitting down to tea at Alice's Tea Cup. Did you have a productive day?"

"I um... yeah," he says, absentmindedly. "I'm sorry, I know I told you I would get her by 3."

"It's not a problem," she says. "I figured when you didn't respond to my text earlier that you needed some time. Is everything alright?"

"I think so, just... a lot going on," Blaine says, still feeling like he's in a fog. He knows it will be like this for the rest of the day and realizes any hope of being productive has gone out the window.

"Well we're going to be here at least another hour and a half. I've got to work in a bit, but Mitch will be home if you need more time?" She asks.

"No, no, I'll come get her," Blaine says. He's put Rachel out enough. He knows that she loves babysitting and would gladly take her, but he doesn't want to take advantage of that. Besides, he misses his baby girl. It's too quiet without her around and he clearly can't be left alone with his thoughts.

"Which one are you at?" Blaine asks, debating if it would be too desperate to go and get Olivia right now.

"The one on 73rd. I can drop her off when we're done, it's not a problem."

"I'll come and get her, she's going to have to go shoe shopping. She doesn't have any dress shoes that will fit," Blaine says.

"I doubt anybody's going to care about what shoes she's wearing. You should stay home and rest," Rachel says in that voice that means she can't be swayed.

"I don't want people to think I can't dress my child," he says, irritably.

"If it's going to bother you, I'll pick up a pair of black Mary Janes tomorrow morning," she says with an air of finality.

"Fine just..."

Blaine doesn't know what he had been about to say. Any ability to form coherent speech leaves him as he takes a look outside of his apartment and sees the crowd of people. There are news vans lining the street. A group of people stand with hateful signs damning both Jake and himself. An even larger group of people stand holding hands and candles. Now that he sees it, he doesn't know how he hasn't noticed it before. While his neighborhood can never be considered quiet, he still rarely hears more than the sounds of traffic, loud bass from next door and occasional screams from the kids playing soccer in the street. This is a circus.

"Blaine? Hello? Did I lose you?" Rachel calls out to him.

"Don't bring her here," he says, his voice quiet.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"They found out where I live," he says. Now would be a good time for him to panic, but he can't bring himself to feel much of anything after the episode earlier. He feels disconnected from his body. He feels disconnected from everything, like his life is happening around him, but he's just watching from the sideline, unable to say or do anything.

"Oh my God, do you need me to come and get you?"

"No, just... can you take Olivia to your place? I don't want her outside. I'll figure something out and get her later," Blaine says, sounding much more in control than he feels.

"Yeah, no problem."

"Rachel—" Blaine says, not knowing how to voice the fear that is beginning to make its way through his body.

"I'll watch out for her. I won't let anything happen. Just take care of yourself. I can call Wes if you need me to?"

"No, I'll be fine. Give Liv a big hug and kiss for me and tell her I'll be by later to get her," he says.

The two of them say their goodbyes and hang up. Blaine doesn't know where to go from here. He can't leave his apartment. Not with so many people waiting for him outside. But he can't stay here either. He can't stay here, surrounded by all the memories he's shared with Jake while outside people are both celebrating and mourning his death. How has this become his life now?

Blaine looks back down at his phone, wondering who he can call to get out of this mess. The police are his first option. But if the police come, there is going to be more of a commotion than there needs to be. He doesn't want to know what kind of headlines they'll make up when they witness him being brought out by the police.

Jane Miller's name comes to mind. Her number is still burning a hole in his pocket. She had told him to call her with anything he needed. But she is all the way back in Ohio. He doubts there is much she can do.

Blaine doesn't feel like any of this is real. His life is boring. He's a school teacher. The most scandalous thing he's ever done is fooled around with his boyfriend at the Met. He's not a celebrity. He's nothing special. Why is everybody suddenly so Goddamn interested in him? He just wants some peace and quiet away from everything so he can heal with what's left of his family.

To stall for time, he checks his cell messages. There are two texts from Rachel letting him know that Olivia is fine and she's happy to keep her as long as Blaine needs. There's a voicemail from his mother asking if he's alright because CNN has a live feed of his apartment building. There are two texts from Cooper demanding that he call home immediately. There's another from Kurt asking if he's alright. Kurt's also left a voicemail.

"Hey," Kurt says. His voice is slightly higher than usual and he sounds out of breath. "I'm not going to bombard you with phone calls because I'm sure you're getting enough as it is. But please call me when you get a second. I'm worried about you. I've got a friend working on getting it taken down, but it could be awhile and I'm afraid that the damage might already be done. Just... call me and I'll do whatever I can to help you. I just want to know that you're okay."

Blaine doesn't know what _it _is, or why he needs it taken down, but he's sure that it's the reason for all the chaos outside of his apartment. A part of him honestly doesn't want to know. Whatever it is, it can't be good. Isn't ignorance supposed to be bliss?

As much as he wants to ignore this problem, he can't ignore hundreds of people surrounding his building. He can't ignore the fact that he's not safe. Ultimately, it's why he picks up the phone and calls Kurt. While he knows he shouldn't rely on Kurt to save him from this mess, he also knows that Kurt will. Because Kurt is in a position that he can. And he wouldn't have offered help if he didn't intend to follow through. That's one thing Blaine can count on, at least.

"I'm so glad you called," Kurt says. He sounds exhausted.

"I don't know how this happened," Blaine says, defeated.

"A couple members of Westboro Baptist Church got a hold of your address and phone number and Tweeted it a few hours ago. Twitter has since taken it down and has been deleting any others that get posted, but..."

He can hear everything Kurt is saying and a part of him realizes that he must be speaking English because the words all sound familiar... but he doesn't understand them.

"Tell me you aren't home right now," Kurt asks, breaking him from his haze.

"I can't leave!" Blaine yells frustrated.

"Alright, okay, just... it'll be alright. We'll figure something out," Kurt says in a reassuring voice. "I've got some of my friends working on keeping your name off of the social networking sites and my lawyer is looking into what can be done about Westboro Church. Though, I'm sorry to say, I don't know if we'll be able to stop them picketing Wednesday. But I'm doing everything I can, please trust that I'm not going to let them do this to you."

"Kurt, you don't have to—"

"Of course I have to!" Kurt snaps at him.

The sudden tone change surprises Blaine and he soon finds himself crying apologies. He hasn't been yelled at like that, not since the attack and it sets something off inside of him. Instantly he feels backed into a corner. He's submissive and willing to do whatever it takes if it means that it will just stop. He curls up on the couch and tries to make himself as small as possible.

"Stop, please, you don't have to be sorry," Kurt says, sounding ashamed. "I'm the one that should be sorry. I shouldn't have yelled like that. Are you alright?"

Blaine nods, though he realizes Kurt can't see him. He can't seem to make his lips say anything but sorry. He's like a broken record. He can hear himself doing it, but can't make himself stop.

"God, Blaine, please..." Kurt says, sounding near tears himself. "I'm sending a car to come and get you, alright? My friend Samantha is on her way right now."

"You," Blaine says and suddenly _that's_ the only word he can form.

"I want to, but with the media, I don't think it would be a good idea. Just trust me, Sam is a good friend of mine. She'll pick you up and I'll meet you anywhere you want to go."

Kurt stays on the line with him for a long time, whispering reassurances every so often, but mostly just listening to Blaine's quiet cries and soft mutterings. He stays on the line for the fifty minutes it takes Samantha to arrive and make her way to his apartment. He stays on the line while a man–Kurt says his name is Greg and that he works security for the Burtka-Harris family—informs him that he needs to stay close and keep walking. He stays on the line as Blaine makes his way from the apartment and is pulled at and grabbed until Greg eventually punches somebody out and shoves Blaine into the car. And he even stays on the line as Blaine endures a painful flashback to the attack.

All in all, Kurt puts up with a surprising amount during the two hours he's on the line with Blaine.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," Kurt says, walking up to him the second Blaine steps through the elevator doors and into Kurt's penthouse apartment. The driver had asked him if there was anywhere he wanted to go, but he had been incapable of speech at the time, so they had simply taken him here. Now that Blaine's arrived, he just wants to leave. Everything about being here feels awkward and wrong.

"Olivia," he says suddenly, ignoring Kurt's outstretched arms for him. "I need to get Olivia."

"Okay," Kurt says, nodding slowly and taking tentative steps towards him like he's some bunny that will get startled with any sudden movements. "We can go get her."

"I need to get her," Blaine repeats, backing himself into the wall as far as he can.

"I'll call the car, I'm sure it can't have gotten far," Kurt says.

When Blaine doesn't respond, Kurt just sighs and picks up the phone to call the driver.

Blaine sets his head against the wall and closes his eyes, taking several deep breaths. Today has turned out to be much more exciting than he had planned and he can't shake the anxious feeling.

"They'll be here in five minutes," Kurt says, hanging up the phone and setting it back down on his granite counter tops. If Blaine was more coherent, he would take the time to admire Kurt's impressive home, but it's beyond him at the moment.

"Blaine," Kurt starts and refuses to continue until Blaine opens his eyes to look at him. "I get that you might not be comfortable here. I know that you're dealing with enough without having to sort the awkwardness between us out. I have two extra rooms and the building has plenty of security and privacy, but I'm more than happy to help find you a place to stay somewhere else. I hope you know that I'm going to do everything I can to help you. I'm fortunate enough to be in a position where I can help and I hope you'll let me."

"I just can't—" Blaine says, covering his face with his hands and trying to rub some of the day away. "I can't think until I can see her and know she's alright. I'm sorry."

"Is there somebody you'd rather I called?" Kurt asks.

Blaine snorts. "There's a lot of people I'd rather you called. _One_ in particular," he says bitterly, thinking of his husband and how much better he would feel if he could just fall into Jake's arms.

Kurt doesn't respond to the catty dig, which is Blaine's first hint that maybe Kurt has changed over the years. Without Kurt responding back and goading him into a fight, Blaine can't help but feel guilty for the comment. It's not Kurt's fault that Blaine's weak and can't get through a tragedy on his own. Blaine is the one who broke down and called Kurt from the hospital after years of silence. Blaine is the one that called Kurt tonight. He can't be mad at him for helping when Blaine asked him for help.

"No, there's nobody else," Blaine admits in barely a whisper. "Jake always handled the... but now he's... I just don't want anyone else..."

"Okay," Kurt says. "Then let's get Olivia and find a place to sleep, then we can figure everything else out in the morning."

_Day 12_

Rachel is less than impressed when she finds out that Blaine had picked Olivia up with Kurt the night before. She's downright livid when she finds out that they've spent the night in his ex-boyfriends apartment. She isn't remotely soothed to find out that both Olivia and Blaine shared a guest bedroom on the other end of the apartment from Kurt. She tries to guilt him into leaving and coming to stay with her and it almost works until Blaine remembers that Kurt was up until very early this morning talking to various contacts on Blaine's behalf. By the time Blaine woke up, Kurt had secured him a spokesperson, a temporary bodyguard and a promise from People Magazine and CNN that they won't run Blaine or Olivia's name in any of their reports.

"There's a menu on the counter if you're hungry," Kurt says as Blaine tip-toes out of his room after his morning shower. Miraculously, Olivia is still sleeping and Blaine knows better than to wake her. She's going to need all the rest she can get to survive the wake today.

"I'll wait for Liv to get up," Blaine says, walking into the living room and standing awkwardly. There are several chairs around the room, but they all look fancy enough that Blaine's not sure if he's supposed to sit on them or not. And he doesn't know if he should sit on the couch next to Kurt. He's tucked into the corner with his laptop at his feet, iPad in his lap and fingers texting away rapidly on his phone. So Blaine just continues to stand there.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to finish this scene and Sam's still texting me updates on TwitterGate and I wanted to research this new act they're proposing for ha... no, no. I'm sorry," Kurt says. He shuts his laptop and moves everything to the coffee table, making room for Blaine. When he's finished, he gestures for Blaine to sit down next to him.

"I see you're still busy as ever," Blaine says, taking a seat on the other side of the couch and pulling his legs up to his chest so he can rest his chin on his knees.

Kurt opens his mouth like he's about to defend himself, before he closes it again and shrugs guiltily.

"I'm sorry, I know you have a lot of things to do," Blaine says.

"I wouldn't have offered to help if I didn't want to," Kurt says.

"I know, but I just want you to know that I understand the sacrifice you must be making to help us and I appreciate it."

"Can we just skip this part?" Kurt asks, pulling his own knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "Can we not do this thing where you feel guilty for needing my help and I assure you that it's completely fine. Can we just skip to the part where we're Kurt and Blaine again and it's understood that we'll always be here for each other?"

"I'm willing to ignore the fact that we both know exactly why this is awkward and pretend that we've always been there for each other because I don't think I can handle having that conversation right now. But I hope you realize none of that is going to magically go away," Blaine says.

The two of them sit in silence for several minutes. Blaine can see Kurt itching to grab his phone so that he'll have something to do with his hands, but he refrains. Blaine wants to tell him that it's alright. That he'll understand if Kurt has work to finish, but it's not his job to tell Kurt what to do. They aren't together. They haven't been so much as acquaintances in a long time.

"How did you sleep?" Kurt asks him, obviously trying to fill the silence.

Blaine shrugs. He hadn't slept well at all. He tossed and turned all night and every time he would fall asleep, he would be woken up by Olivia kicking him in the shin. He might have gotten more rest if he put Olivia in the second guest bedroom, but neither of them has been able to sleep without the other since the attack and he didn't feel like trying again on their first night in an unfamiliar home.

"I hope the bed wasn't too uncomfortable for you?"

"The bed's great," Blaine says, not elaborating any further. He's never been one to share his problems, not without a lot of prying.

"Right," Kurt says, nodding his head and biting his lip nervously.

Blaine can see him wanting to press the issue more, but he never does. He wonders if it's always going to be this awkward between the two of them or if they just have to get used to being around each other again. They've never done this well—just being friends. Even before, when they had just met, there had always been something between them. And after the breakup, they couldn't manage more than angry sex or drunken make outs in dark bars. And ever since Jake came along, Blaine just...

Well, he just hopes it's not always like this. He hopes that they can learn to be around each other again, because the other option just makes his head and heart hurt in ways he doesn't want to think about.

"So how long do you have to wear that thing?" Kurt asks, watching Blaine scratch at the skin around his cast. The cast is so heavy and big and makes his skin itch like no other. He just wants to take a saw to it and get it off but he knows he'll get so much shit if he does.

"Eight weeks," he says with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says.

"Why?" Blaine says with a bitter snort. "I got off easy."

They sit in silence again. Kurt stubbornly refusing to check his phone, even though it's gone off with at least five different texts. Blaine staring blankly out the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson River lost in his thoughts.

Before too long, they are both startled by the sounds of Olivia screaming. Blaine is on his feet and at her bedside in the blink of an eye. He sits on the bed and gently pulls her into his arms, whispering soothing words in her ear and rubbing her back.

"The bad man," she cries into his shoulder, but the rest of what she was going to say is cut off as she begins gagging. He pulls over a garbage can just in case and tries to remind her to breathe. She gets like this sometimes, so upset that she makes herself sick. Knowing that she's going to be alright doesn't make the pang in his heart any easier to deal with and soon he's fighting back his own tears.

"Shh, it's alright. The bad man is in jail, he can't hurt us anymore," Blaine says, running his hands through her hair in the way that she likes.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispers, pulling herself completely into his lap. She grabs onto his cast with both of her small hands and rubs over it.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Littlebit," he reassures her.

"I was bad at G'ama's. That's why we wented to the park," she says, eyes trained on his cast, refusing to look anywhere else.

"You know what happened to your Papa had nothing to do with you, right?" he asks, hating the fact that he has to have this conversation at all.

"Yeah," she says with a sigh and he knows that she doesn't believe that.

Blaine is going to have to set her up with a therapist. He knows that the issues Olivia is going to have with the attack are beyond what he will be able to fix on his own. He's got enough of Jake's co-workers programmed into his phone. It shouldn't be hard to find somebody that specializes in cases like this. But he can't bring himself to make that phone call yet. Anyone he calls is going to want to talk about him, and he can't handle being analyzed right now. Not while he's feeling crazier than he has in a long time.

"How about we get some breakfast and you can decorate my cast for me, alright?" Blaine says, wiping the tears from his eyes on the end of his sleeve.

"I can decorates it?" she asks, her voice is small and raspy from the crying, but it's curious and he knows that he's found their distraction for the morning.

"Yep, you can draw whatever you want on it," he says.

Blaine looks up to see Kurt leaning against the doorframe and watching them with an unreadable expression. Blaine looks back down at Olivia, who is now doodling designs with her finger onto the white plaster. There's a few stray tears falling down her face, but she's stopped crying for the most part.

"Can I draws a yunsacorn?" she asks, looking at him with big hopeful eyes.

"Yep," he says with a shaky smile.

"Can I draws a big, green monsser?"

"You can draw whatever you want," he says.

He pulls her closer to him and buries his nose into her hair. It still smells like strawberries from her bath yesterday and the smell comforts him. While they'd been in Ohio, she had been using generic travel shampoos. But since being back home, they've started using her special children's shampoo. The smell makes him feel safe and home in a way not much has been able to.

It's the shampoo that Jake and Blaine had spent thirty minutes fretting over one afternoon in Walgreens the day Olivia came home from preschool and declared herself too old for Johnson's and Johnson's baby shampoo. Jake had been reluctant to make the switch, claiming it meant she was growing up. Blaine had been far too concerned about how the choice between grape, strawberry, or apple could affect her. Eventually—and not before an old man had told them it didn't matter what shampoo they used their child was destined to be a mess just like every other kid—they'd purchased her the shampoo and have been using it ever since. Blaine had even caught Jake smelling it the first night that Olivia slept over at Rachel's without them.

"I'll draw a daddy and a papa," she says, pulling away from him and trying to shimmy out of his hold.

"That would be nice," he says.

"I think we're ready for breakfast," Blaine says to Kurt, pulling Liv back into his arms and standing up.

"Of course," Kurt says. There's a hitch in his voice. It sounds like Kurt's holding back tears, but Blaine figures he must be imagining it. It's been a long night and Kurt's probably just tired. He turns away and walks back out into the main room before Blaine can question it any further.

"What would you like?" Kurt asks when they all reach the kitchen. His voice is completely back to normal at this point and Blaine realizes that it had probably been nothing. "They have a brioche French toast that's delicious. I've only had it once or twice, because it's loaded with calories, but it's worth it."

"We should probably stick to something simple. She's only four," Blaine says with a small smirk.

"Right, of course," Kurt says, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm not used to having kids around. Unless you count the child actors that we get on the show, but I certainly hope they aren't representative of all children, because by God, if that's the case I don't know why people have kids."

He's rambling, which Blaine remembers means he's probably feeling uncomfortable. He wants to say something to make him relax, but he doesn't know what.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Blaine asks Olivia. She shakes her head violently and leans into him, though her eyes won't leave Kurt.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just Kurt. You met him yesterday," he says, running a hand through her hair. She shakes her head again and latches onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.

"Sorry, she doesn't like strangers," Blaine explains before sitting down at one of the island stools and letting her sit on his lap. "It's alright, you can trust Kurt. He's a friend of Daddy's," he whispers into her ear so Kurt can't hear.

It's strange to think that Kurt and Olivia have never met. For the longest time, Kurt had been one of the most important people in his life, and now, Olivia _is_ the most important person in his life. He hopes that she'll warm up to Kurt. He's a little bit embarrassed about her reaction. He hopes Kurt doesn't take it personally. He's been so nice to open his home up to them. He knows Olivia will like him once she gets to know him, it just takes awhile.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Blaine asks again.

"Cinmon," she whispers into his ear, shyly.

"Cinnamon? I don't think they have Cinnamon buns, babe. How about eggs?" he asks.

She shakes her head and glare at him. "Cinmon," she says, more loudly this time.

"It's alright," Kurt says. "I'll call down. I'm sure the chef will make it for me if I ask, we used to... he's a friend of mine."

Blaine wants to smirk at the way Kurt is suddenly blushing, but he doesn't have the energy.

"That'd be great. If not, she'll eat plain scrambled eggs. You don't need to make a fuss," he says.

"What can I get for you?" Kurt asks.

"Just a coffee," he says. He doesn't think his stomach can handle much more than that. Not today, when he has to deal with seeing all of their friends and family.

"You should eat something," Kurt says, giving him a knowing look.

"I'm not hungry," he says, fixing Kurt with a hard look. It's been a long time since Kurt had any right to tell him what to do. And while he's been gracious enough to let them stay in his home, it doesn't mean that Blaine is about to start following orders. He is a grown man and can make his own choices.

"Fine," he responds, though he doesn't look happy about it. "We can always stop again on our way later if you change your mind."

"So you're coming to the wake?" Blaine asks, surprised. He had assumed Kurt would be too busy with work.

"Where else would I be?" Kurt asks, giving him a confused look.

Blaine wants to remind him that there are plenty of other places he could be. Blaine _should_ inform him that he's probably better off not going. He knows Rachel is going to be livid if he shows up. Cooper won't react much better. He doesn't know what Jake's friends will say. He's is fairly certain Jake told at least a few of them about Vegas, which means they won't be happy to discover Kurt is there. But Blaine doesn't say anything.

He doesn't want to think too long about why.


	5. Days pt 3

_13 Days._

Blaine can't stop seeing the coffin being lowered into the ground. Even hours later, after his family is all sitting down to dinner at a small italian restaurant where Kurt has arranged a private room so they can enjoy their meal without being interrupted. He supposes it's normal. He has just said goodbye to the man he had intended to spend the next thirty years with.

Then again, with the way everyone had been hovering all day, maybe it wasn't. With the way his family had had to pull him away from the gravesite an hour after the burial, maybe he is more damaged than he should be.

"So how's Kurt?" Cooper asks him, wearing an unamused look.

"Don't," Blaine says, setting his fork down and running a hand over his tired face. It's been a long day. Between the funeral, the protest, the _counter_-protest and all the media circus that had become, he just wants to relax with his family.

"I know when Jo left, I was pretty lonely, but that doesn't mean—"

"Jo left you because you gambled away all of your savings from your commercial days," Blaine cuts off his brother before he can get started. "You can't even begin to compare the two, just drop it."

"No, we're going to talk about this. What on Earth are you thinking?" he asks.

"What am I thinking?" Blaine asks, throwing his hands in the air, frustrated. "I'm thinking that my husband just died and while I've been trying to quietly get through this and take care of Olivia, everyone else seems to want to talk to me and film me. I'm thinking that I can't go back to my apartment because it's surrounded by photographers, evangelists, and every news station in the fucking country—" Rachel puts a gentle hand on his arm and gestures to Olivia. She's currently cowering in the seat next to him and Blaine instantly feels guilty.

"Cooper, leave him alone," their mom says, leveling Cooper with a stare.

"I just need to be somewhere safe. _Olivia_ needs to be somewhere safe, at least for a little bit," Blaine says, much more calmly this time. He pulls his daughter into his lap and rubs her back, trying to get her to stop trembling.

"There are other options," Cooper mutters to himself.

Blaine is itching to respond. He's itching to remind him that Rachel lives down the street from NBC Studios. That Wes has Ashley and hardly enough security to protect any of them from this mess. But he looks around and sees how awkward this is for everyone and he decides to keep his mouth shut. There are more appropriate times to have this conversation.

"So, when is Olivia going to go back to school?" Wes asks. Blaine can tell he's trying to change the topic. He sends his friend a grateful smile.

"Not until after New Year's. She's going to start therapy on Monday and between that and the doctors visits, we won't have a lot of time for school," he explains.

Blaine had spoken with one of Jake's friends, Susan, today. Jake had gone to NYU with her and the two remained close. She is a child psychologist and has offered to treat Olivia, free of charge. She'd hinted several times that she could help him find somebody as well, but he'd turned her down. He will get through this on his own. He just wants to make sure that Olivia has somebody to talk to.

"That'll be good," Charlotte, Wes' wife, says. "I'm glad you decided to send her to somebody."

Blaine nods as he spears some of his pasta onto a fork for Olivia to eat. She hasn't been eating much lately, and he knows he's to blame. He's been avoiding meals and mainlining coffee since the accident. When Olivia asked him why he wasn't eating, he told her that he missed papa and it was making his stomach hurt. Since then, he's had to practically force feed her every meal.

"What are you doing about work?" his mom asks, bringing him back into the conversation.

"Right now, I'm still using up sick days," he explains. "When those run out, there's a paid leave of absence I'll apply for that lasts twelve weeks. After that, I'm not really sure. I'd love to go back, but my principal told me that the school board doesn't want me to come back until the case is settled or the media hype goes down."

He thinks back to the conversation he'd had with his principal yesterday. He had been hoping to return to work soon, eager to get back into a routine. Looking forward to having papers, midterms and concerts to distract him from life. It had been frustrating to hear that he wouldn't be allowed back, but he could understand. The parents wouldn't like the school turning into a media circus anymore than Blaine would. His principal assured him that the students missed him and none of this was personal. Everyone was hoping he would be able to return soon and was keeping him in their thoughts.

He's in a lot of people's thoughts, lately. That's all anyone ever says to him. He doesn't know what good that's supposed to do. It's not going to bring Jake back. It's not going to get anyone to leave him alone.

"Well if they are forcing you into a leave, they'll have to pay you for as long as it lasts, otherwise they'd be setting themselves up for a lawsuit," Wes explains and Blaine realizes that he missed part of whatever the conversation was. But now everyone is looking to him to answer.

"I'm gonna have more than enough court dates to deal with, without adding more," he says, giving Wes a tired look. He's been approached by a fair share of lawyers, interested in helping him pursue a civil case. He isn't interested in dealing with any cases at the moment. He just wants to be left alone.

"I know that, I wasn't suggesting anything," Wes explains.

"That nice lady at the station told us that you could apply for victim's compensation," his mother says.

"Yeah, I know," he snaps. "Listen, I know you're all just trying to help, and Olivia and I appreciate it. But we just... _I_ just can't right now."

"I could apply for you, make sure you get the money that you need to move into your own place. That way you wouldn't have to stay at Kurt's—"

"Cooper! Just drop it, okay? Please," Blaine says, rubbing at his temples, trying to stop the pounding in his head.

"If you came home with me, I could make you some tea to soothe that headache," Rachel says, rubbing his back.

"Drop it, Rachel," he says with a glare. He's sick of hearing her off-hand comments every few minutes. He knows that she's just trying to help, but smothering him isn't the answer. He just needs some space. "I'm not coming back with you."

"Where is Kurt anyway?" Cooper asks.

"He's working," he says, daring Cooper to comment. He'd give anything for an excuse to punch that knowing smirk off of his brother's face.

It's Rachel who tuts her teeth.

"That's not fair," he groans. "He asked me if I wanted him to come. I told him not to because I knew that none of you could be trusted to be civil."

"It's not about him, it's about you. Who cares if he feels uncomfortable, if you need him, he should be here!" Rachel says.

"I don't need him here!" Blaine snaps.

"Don't lie to yourself," Rachel says with a dirty look. "You need him. You've always needed him and he's nowhere to be found. I don't know why you think this time is going to be any different than before."

"Can we not make this about _your_ issues tonight?" he asks.

Rachel rolls her eyes and Blaine bites his tongue. This time is going to be different from before. Because this time Kurt isn't his boyfriend. He isn't even the ex-boyfriend that Blaine calls when he's drunk and lonely. No, Kurt is a friend and Blaine is married—well, _was_ married. Blaine isn't going to throw himself into Kurt. And if Kurt lets him down again... well then Blaine will deal with it just fine. Just like he's dealt with everything. Because he's fine. Perfectly, completely, 100% fine.

_17 Days. _

"No, listen, I don't care," Kurt yells into the phone. "She has to be at the workshop, or she doesn't have the part...No, I can't just do it without her. We're reworking a scene that's she's in...Having seen many other actresses for this part, I can assure you she's not the only one with that kind of range, so don't pull that card...No, it starts at 10, she's there or she's not...Perfect, we'll see you all then...Yeah, no, that's great! Send Sylvia my love!"

Blaine shuffles around the apartment, trying to keep Olivia quiet as Kurt works from the living room and Blaine tries to pack. They are headed back to Ohio for a preliminary hearing in a few hours. Blaine's not thrilled about having to go, but Jane has convinced him that it's important to be there. As one of the major witnesses and as Jake's husband, what he says will have a huge influence on the case.

Blaine would rather not have to speak at all. He'd rather he never had to go back to Ohio. And he sure as hell never wants to see that man again.

Martin Peterson. That's his name. It was released to the public the day after Blaine identified him at the police station. His picture runs everywhere. They haven't turned on the TVs for fear of seeing him in one of the reports. It's no use. His picture is plastered on newspapers at the corner stands. Just yesterday, he spent thirty minutes in the bathroom of a Baskin Robbins trying to calm Olivia down after she saw one of the pictures.

Blaine hopes prison has been treating him well and wiped that satisfied look off of his face. If not, Blaine's not sure he'll be able to stop himself from doing it for him.

"Daddy?" Olivia asks from the floor, where she's sprawled out, surrounded by markers and a My Little Ponies coloring book.

"Hmm?" he hums in response, only half listening. Should he bring a dress for Olivia as well? She's not scheduled to appear in court, but what if they change their mind? It's supposed to snow. Olivia will want to go sledding with Cooper, but he's left her snow pants at their apartment. There's no way he'll be able to get them before they have to leave. He's not allowed to leave the apartment anymore without security and nobody's scheduled to show up in enough time. Maybe his mom still has an old pair of his?

"What's Kurt's job?" she asks.

"He writes musicals."

"Mosicals are happy," she says, sounding confused.

"Yeah?" He stops and kneels down to her level so he can see her better.

"Kurt doesn't sounded happy," she says, peering around him where Kurt can be seen through the halfway opened door. Blaine chances a glance as well. Kurt is leaning against the counter, head down, hands rubbing at his temples like he has a headache.

"Kurt's... Kurt's just busy at the moment," Blaine says, not sure how to explain to a four year old that jobs are stressful and being an adult completely sucks.

"Is Kurt our new Papa?" she asks.

Blaine's caught off guard, unsure how he should respond.

"Where did you get that from?" he asks.

"The TV said," she says with an over-exaggerated shrug of her shoulders.

He's curious when she's had the chance to see anything. He's been keeping a pretty close eye on her. He figures it must have been when she was with Ashley at Wes' place. He can only imagine what she's seen or heard if it involved himself and Kurt. The media hasn't exactly been working hard at accurate reporting.

Blaine knows that conservative groups have been having a field day with the information that he's spending time with Kurt. They've been using it as ammunition to shut down the bill that's been introduced to congress trying to legalize gay marriage. He's being painted as the heartless, sex-crazed gay man who's off enjoying the perks of fame his sad husband's death has awarded him.

It's sick and makes Blaine angrier than he'll ever admit.

"Listen, Littlebit," he says, lying down next to her on the floor. He figures this is going to be a long conversation, so he might as well settle in. "You can't believe everything you hear on TV. You know that."

"Mommy Rachel say you two love each others," she says. Her eyes are glued to the picture she's coloring, and Blaine can tell that she's trying not to let him see how upset she is. It's something she's picked up from him, no doubt. Jake was always an open book.

"Rachel said that to you?" he asks, knowing the answer before she can say it.

"She tolded it to Mitchy."

"You shouldn't eavesdrop on other people's conversations," he says with an annoyed sigh. This isn't the first time they've had to talk about this. She has a knack for hearing exactly what people don't want her to hear.

"People shouldn't talk so loud!" she says, completely exasperated.

"Okay," he says, because he has no idea what to say next. He can't punish her for listening in, not when he doesn't know the details, and especially not since the attack. But he also doesn't know how to elaborate on what she's heard. Maybe that makes him a bad parent...

"I don't wants you to be saded anymore," she says with a quiver to her voice.

"Well we're all sad," he says, because there's no use sugarcoating the truth when it's painfully obvious. "Everybody misses Papa a lot, but that's okay."

"I don't want you to be married with Kurt," she says, looking up at him with wet eyes. She bites her lip like she's embarrassed about what she's just said, which doesn't make sense to him. Of course she wouldn't be comfortable with the idea of him marrying somebody else. It hasn't even been a month yet. He hasn't even entertained the idea of getting married again, even as a distant future possibility.

"I'm not marrying Kurt," Blaine says, making sure that he doesn't leave any room for doubt with his tone. He wants to make sure he's absolutely clear for her.

"I know I'm a 'posed to letted you be happy like Uncle Cooper was happy when he founded a new Auntie. But I don't wanted a new Papa. I want my old Papa," she cries.

"Hey now, it's alright," he says, pulling the marker out of her hand and capping it before she can accidentally stain the carpet. He cups her cheek with his good hand and kisses her forehead lovingly. "Daddy loved your papa very much. More than anything in the world except for you, okay?"

She nods and wipes her hand on the edge of her sleeve.

"It's you and me now," he says, stroking her cheek. He's getting choked up and he's trying not to cry in front of her. She's seen him break down more than enough and he knows how terrifying that must be for her. He needs to be strong. "And I'm not going to do anything to mess that up."

"But old Auntie Jo tolded Emmy it was 'elfish to be mad at Uncle Cooper for finding her a new mommy," she whimpers, holding his hand to her face so he can't move it. Not that he would even try.

"You're not selfish," he assures her. "You're the best little girl there is. We're going to miss Papa for a long time, but I'm not trying to replace him. I promise. Kurt is just a friend of Daddy's that is helping us out."

He wonders if Cooper and Rachel have a point. If he's made a mistake staying here. Olivia is, and always will be, his first priority. He hates seeing how upset she is over this and can't help but wonder if he's to blame.

"Good," she says, crawling closer to him with a shaky smile.

"Good?" he asks, curiously.

"I wanted to be angrys at Kurt, but he boughted me a kitty headband and letted me draw with pretty markers," she says as if this should explain her entire internal dilemma. For a four year old, it kind of does.

"He bought you a headband?" he asks.

It's strange, because Kurt hates children. Not in the sense that he can't be around them, because, hello, he let a four year old girl suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder move in. But in the sense that he has no interest in catering to them. He used to complain about visiting his aunt because she had small children and Kurt hated the mess. He called his cousins obnoxious, uneducated brats. What made him go out of his way to buy something for Olivia?

"He tolded me it's secret."

"But you just told me," Blaine chuckles.

She gives him a strange look until what he says sinks in and she looks absolutely horrified.

"Oh no!" she slaps her hands to her cheeks, a perfect imitation of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. He laughs harder, a loud, full-bellied laugh. It's unfamiliar and makes his stomach hurt, but it feels good.

The door swings open all the way and Kurt steps in, looking at the two of them curiously. "What's going on?" he asks.

"Nothing!" Olivia yells, hitting Blaine's arm with her stuffed alligator and shaking her head frantically. He can only assume this is her subtle way of warning him not to say anything that might tip Kurt off. She's clearly destined to be an international spy.

"I didn't tells daddy the secret, nope!" she blurts out like a regular old Agent 99.

"Oh no?" Kurt asks, trying to hide his own laughter.

"No!" she says, trying to sit up but having difficulty with the cast. Blaine reaches over and helps her.

"Well she's definitely your kid," Kurt says, no longer able to hold back his chuckle.

"Hey!" Blaine says, throwing Gator at his head.

"Gator!" Liv yells, outraged. She holds out her hands to try and reach it, but fails miserably. Kurt bends down to pick it up and hands it back to her with a fond look on his face.

"What do you say?" Blaine says, more out of habit than anything.

"Thank you," she says, hugging Gator close to her chest.

"Are you all packed?" Kurt asks casually.

"If I say no, do I still have to go?" Blaine responds, only half joking.

"Come on, let's get your stuff together. The car is going to be here in an hour or so and you should probably eat before you get to the airport," Kurt says. He moves over to the suitcase that has clothes haphazardly thrown in. He begins pulling them out so they can be folded neatly. Blaine's surprised that Kurt doesn't comment on his inability to pack.

"I bet you'll be happy to have us away for a few days," he says, knowing how much work Kurt has been putting off in order to stay home with them most days.

"Why would you say that?" Kurt stops what he's doing to give him a confused look.

"I know you have to get those re-writes finished," Blaine says, lying back down to help Olivia finish her coloring. The gentleman in him feels compelled to help Kurt pack, but he knows how much Kurt needs to feel like he's doing something.

"Yeah," he answers, his voice sounding slightly off. Blaine's not sure why.

"Probably easier to do when you don't have Disney Channel movies playing on repeat."

"I've been using them as inspiration," Kurt says with a shrug.

"If you say so."

"Hey, I'm not gonna lie, I'm going to use this time to get a lot of work done, sure," Kurt says. "But I don't mind you being here. It's been nice. And I know how much you're dreading going to this thing so I wish you didn't have to."

"I had an option not to go," he says quietly.

"You didn't tell me that." Kurt stops what he's doing to turn and look at him.

"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his neck, nervously. "They said I could submit a written statement if it was too much."

"But you said no," he says with a nod.

"I just... I want to do anything I can to make sure that he doesn't get out, even if it's only temporary. Does that make me a bad person?" Blaine asks. It's a question that's been sitting in the back of his mind ever since he's started getting shit in the media. He's seen the pictures of Martin Peterson's family. He knows that he's tearing a family apart, justified or not...

"That man deserves the chair! I mean the fact that his own wife would turn him in just goes to show how completely—" Kurt throws his hands up, angry and appears to be starting a rant that could last awhile, before he takes a look at Blaine and Olivia, both watching him closely. He takes a breath and calms himself down before speaking again. "No. No, that makes you human."

"Thanks," Blaine says, though he doesn't know exactly what he's thanking him for. For lying to him and telling him that he's not a horrible person. For helping him pack. For letting him stay here?

"You really need to stop saying that," Kurt says, giving him a look that says he won't accept anymore conversation on the matter.

Olivia tugs on Kurt's pant leg as he zips up her small backpack. He gives her an expectant look, waiting for her to say something.

"Can I take my kitty headband?" she asks him.

"Your secret one?" Kurt asks, with an amused smirk.

"It sparkles," she says with an adorable smile.

"Of course," he says and turns back to Blaine. "I'll finish up in here, why don't you go put together some snacks for the plane."

"I just... I know you're doing a lot more than you're letting me know about," Blaine says, ignoring his change of subject.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt says. His poker face has never been great either.

_19 Days_

Blaine sits in the courtroom with his mother squeezing his knee on one side. Jane is sitting calmly on his other side. His head is spinning from all of the legal jargon the past two days and he is struggling to understand every detail. He's said his piece for the court already. Jane has told him that he's free to leave at any point, and despite his mother's insistence that he go, he can't bring himself to leave without hearing the verdict. He doesn't know how they could possibly dismiss the case after all the evidence against Peterson, but he's still nervous. What if they don't believe him? What will happen then?

"It appears to me that the offense in the herein-named complaint mentioned, a violation of Section 2903 of the Penal Code, assault and homicide, has been committed and that there is sufficient cause to believe that the therein-named defendant, Mr.—"

"Your Honor, before holding my client to answer, there is a motion to dismiss on the insufficiency of usable evidence," Mr. Jetter, the high powered attorney Martin Peterson has hired, cuts in.

Blaine dislikes everything about this man. He is the epitome of a cutthroat lawyer. He has torn Blaine's testimony apart and tried to make Jake out to be a criminal. Blaine knows that he's the lawyer that worked the huge OSU murder trial five years ago. He'd managed to get Jared Gromer, the school's quarterback, off for murdering his girlfriend even though the police had evidence that put the gun in his hand. The thought of this man helping Peterson walk for killing Jake has set his stomach in knots.

"Would you like to interpose that for the record?" The judge asks. Blaine shoots Jane a questioning look. He doesn't know what this means, but he doesn't like the sound of any of it. Jane just pats his knee gently before holding a finger up to her mouth and signaling for him to listen.

"Yes," Mr. Jetter answers.

He turns back to stare at the judge, hoping he can sense his desperation. Hoping that he will take pity on him and lock Peterson up for this. He can't handle any other verdict.

"That will be denied," the judge says, sending Jetter a look that warns him not to fight the decision. "That the therein-named defendant, Mr. Peterson, is guilty thereof, I order he be held to answer. Date of arraignment in Superior Court will be the 12th of January, 2026, at 9 am. Bail in the matter will be set at $1,000,000. Mr. Peterson will be returned to the custody of the sheriff of Franklin County until he posts bail."

The preliminary trial concludes and people start to stand and leave. He can see a woman, barely a few years older than himself, sitting behind Peterson, crying. Peterson is turned to face her, saying something that Blaine can't hear, but the woman is simply holding her hand up to him, uninterested in whatever he's saying. Soon, two men in uniforms are dragging him back out of the courtroom through a door by the judge's stand.

Blaine's mother is trying to get him to stand and leave. Jane is congratulating him and giving him more details about what happens now, but he isn't paying attention to either of them. His eyes are glued to this woman. It's obvious to him that this is Peterson's wife. This is the woman that turned her own husband over to the police, and Blaine feels indebted to her. He knows that she willingly tore her family apart so that his could have some sort of justice. He can't imagine what courage a decision like that had to take.

She turns around and they lock eyes. Blaine tries to convey his immense gratitude in his look. It only makes her cry harder, but he can see her mouthing the words, "I'm sorry," to him. He knows he should go over to her. He should say something to her after she's given him so much, but he can't. He doesn't have any idea what he could say. Nothing seems like enough.

At some point, Detective Williams comes over to him. He assures Blaine that they will "get the bastard." Chief Harrison is there as well. Blaine doesn't think the Chief of Police usually comes to these things, but then again, this is a unique case. From what he's heard in pieces from MSNBC and write-ups in the New Yorker, this case is much bigger than a murder trial. It's much bigger than the Anderson family.

Blaine allows himself to be escorted out by the Detective. Flashes go off in his face, blinding him temporarily, as he leaves the building. None of this seems real. The entire thing feels like a dream. Something straight out of a John Grisham novel. Jake had always read those, forced Blaine to read them as well. Funny, he always pictured his love story to be more _The Last Song_ than _A Time to Kill_.

Once Blaine and his mom are finally back in their car and driving home, Blaine pulls out his phone.

From Blaine:

**Trial concluded. Bail set at $1,000,000. Arraignment starts on Jan 12th.**

From Kurt:

**Gotta celebrate the small victories. **

Blaine knows that there are still months and months of meetings and trials to go before anything is decided, but he's trying to take relief in the moments he can.

_32 Days._

Blaine is surprised to see Wes standing in the kitchen when he walks out of the bedroom. He's just finished putting Olivia to sleep and he's hoping she manages to sleep through the night tonight. He's been practicing relaxation techniques with her at bedtime. Her therapist has told him they might help her handle the anxiety and help her sleep better. So far they haven't worked.

Wes and Kurt are having a quiet discussion between themselves and Blaine can't quite make out what they are saying.

"Hey," Blaine says, walking across the living room to join them by the kitchen island.

"Oh, hey B," Wes says with a smile. "I was coming to kidnap you for a guys' night out. I figured you could use one."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, I've got Olivia," Blaine explains. He really could use a night out though. He misses the days when he had somebody to share the parenting responsibilities with.

"Go, I'll watch Olivia," Kurt says, opening up his laptop and getting back to work on his screenplay.

"You're working," Blaine protests.

"She sleeping," Kurt says giving him an amused look. "I think I can handle this one."

"I don't want her to wake up with a nightmare," he says, though he's seriously considering Kurt's offer. He hasn't been out since before the accident and he could use a beer or six...

"Trust me, we'll be fine," Kurt says. "If we have any problems, I'll call you. How about that?"

"Sounds good to me," Wes says, pulling Blaine's coat out of the hallway closet and handing it to him.

"But I—" Blaine tries to come up with an excuse not to go, but the two of them are throwing his things at him and practically pushing him out of the door.

"Can I at least change first?" Blaine asks, looking down at his old jeans and battered old Dalton sweatshirt. He only wears these on days when he's not planning on leaving the house.

"Yes, please, go change," Kurt says pushing him back towards his bedroom.

"You should go to Rose Bar," Blaine hears Kurt say to Wes as he closes the door behind himself and searches for an acceptable outfit to wear out.

Once Blaine has changed into a dressy pair of dark jeans and a clean cardigan, he checks himself in the mirror one last time before heading back out. He's surprised to see Wes lounging on the sofa with a bottle of beer. He gives him a questioning look, and Wes just gestures to where Kurt is pacing the floor, cellphone glued to his ear.

"Yes, Blaine Anderson and Wesley Montgomery," Kurt says. "Sadly I've got to work, gotta get the latest draft in to Universal, but you'll take good care of them? Sounds great... Definitely next time... You're the best, just charge everything to my tab. Have a good one."

"What was that about?" Blaine asks, already knowing the answer.

"Just wanted to make sure you two went somewhere you wouldn't be bothered," Kurt explains. "Grant over at Rose Bar promised he'd look out for you, now you won't have to worry about being photographed while you're out."

"And you're putting it all on your tab?" Blaine says, sending him a dirty look. "We talked about this, I can cover my share of—"

"Please, I don't pay for half of the alcohol I consume there," Kurt cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "He'll charge it to my account and forget about it in the morning. I got him season box seats at Gershwin."

"You realize I don't believe half of the excuses that come out of your mouth," Blaine says. He's too tired to argue over this with Kurt. He knows he'll have to find a way to pay him back for everything he's done, but for now, he'll just let it slide. He's got enough to worry about.

"Have a good night," Kurt says, waving them both out the door. "If you decide to go anywhere else, call John first."

John is the security guard that's been working for Blaine for the past month. Blaine hates having to be escorted anytime he wants to go somewhere, but he knows it's far better than the alternative, which is getting mobbed by crazy evangelists and reporters that don't understand boundaries.

Rose Bar is only about five minutes away and located in the Gramercy Park Hotel. Blaine feels underdressed and awkward the second he steps through the door. It's a fancy bar meant to host New York's elite. He can spot a few famous people lounging in the soft armchairs. It's not anything like the guys' night he's expected. There's not a single TV showing a game. The beers all appear to be imported and the tables are bottle service.

"Damn," Wes whispers under his breath. Blaine's right there with him. Even living with Kurt in that penthouse, the life Kurt's built for himself still surprises him . It's like something off the pages of Vanity Fair. Fancy and proper and way out of his league.

"You must be Mr. Anderson and Mr. Montgomery," a middle aged man, dressed in a black suit greets them with a big smile. "Mr. Hummel told me to expect you. It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Grant, I run this place. Follow me, I've reserved a table for you."

The two of them follow John back through the room. Even though the room is filled with faces from television, movies, and sports teams, he's surprised by the amount of looks he still gets. He doesn't know what makes him more uncomfortable, thinking that they are staring because he's too low class for this place or knowing that they are staring because his story has become the most watched new story in the country.

"Shall I start you off with a bottle of wine, or would you prefer something stronger?" Grant asks, as they take their seats. There are no menus in sight and for that Blaine is thankful. He's positive he doesn't want to know what the drinks at a place like this cost.

"Um... tequilla?" Wes says, more of a question than anything. Blaine's glad to know that he's not the only one feeling out of place here.

"Of course," Grant says and turns to leave.

"And um—" Blaine calls after him, then blushes, realizing that it's probably not acceptable in a place like this. "Two beers?"

Grant's face relaxes into an easy smile.

"Don't worry kid, I still get overwhelmed by this place sometimes," he says. "Nobody's going to judge you. People come here to be ignored, not to be noticed."

Blaine tries to give him a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"What do you usually drink?" Grant asks.

"Miller Light?" Blaine says with a hopeful look.

"I've got a few in the back. I'll bring it out with the tequila."

"So, what does Kurt do again?" Wes asks once Grant has left the table to go get their drinks. "Because this is insane."

"He writes musicals," Blaine explains, poking at the candle that's sitting on their table. "He wrote _Above All Else_ with his writing partner and adapted the screenplay by himself. And he also co-wrote _Sapphire_. That's the screenplay he's working on now."

"I didn't realize he wrote those, Charlotte loves _Above All Else. _She's seen it at least five times," Wes says. "Wow, he's good."

"Yeah, well." Blaine shrugs, not really sure what else to say.

Soon, Grant brings them back their beers along with two shot glasses and an expensive bottle of tequila. It takes a few shots before Blaine stops feeling so jittery, but soon they are both drunk and laughing. It feels good to be laughing again with his best friend, like old times. If he allows himself to go with it, he can almost believe that he'll go home to Jake tonight. That he'll climb into bed, drunk and fumbling and Jake will whine about early morning rounds before giving in and fooling around like teenagers.

The two of them spend hours sitting around sharing a bottle of tequila and more beers that he can remember. They talk about Dalton, the Warblers, college and eventually, once he's been liquored up enough not to care, Jake. It's the first time he's been able to talk about his husband and not cry. He doesn't know if that's just a sign of the amount of alcohol he's consumed or if it's a sign that he's finally starting to heal.

It's probably the alcohol.

"Blaine Anderson?" a man calls to him from behind. Blaine turns around, surprised to see Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka standing there, looking at him with welcoming smiles.

"Yes?"

"We wanted to come over and offer our condolences," David says.

"I know we've already arranged security for your family, but if there's anything else you need, just let us know," Neil says.

"Excuse me?" Wes asks, looking at them all confused. "You arranged security?"

"Um... yes?" Neil says, looking awkwardly between David and Blaine. "When we found out that Kurt was helping you, we asked him if there was anything we could do."

"You know Kurt," Blaine says, nodding his head as if he should have known better. Of course the supposed Victim's Fund that Kurt had claimed was funding the security guard, had been a lie. What else had Kurt been doing for him without his knowledge?

"Why don't you two have a seat," Wes waves his hand at the two empty seats on either side of them. "Let me buy you a drink."

The four of them get to know each other over another round of drinks. Blaine can see why Kurt likes them. They met when Neil opened as the lead in _Above All Else_ and have been friends ever since. They are incredibly kind people, and much more down to Earth than Blaine would have expected.

It's the first time that Blaine asks questions and gets honest answers back. Kurt, in his need to protect him, has been sheltering him from so much. Detective Williams has been accused of assaulting Martin Peterson. The media is up in arms about the possibility that Martin Peterson might get a mistrial. Right wing conservatives are victimizing Peterson as a family man that was simply trying to protect his child and misjudged the situation. They are calling for leniency against the crazy left liberals who are looking to persecute an innocent man to further their cause.

The president has released a statement, stating that he's in support of the bill that looks to legalize gay marriage. He mentions Blaine and Jake as evidence that equality won't just happen without action. The government needs to take a stand, he's suggested that the FBI might be taking over the case against Martin Peterson.

Blaine's pissed that nobody has told him this. Not Kurt, not Wes, not even Jane at the station whose job it is to keep him informed. There's a chance the man that killed his husband might walk free and nobody saw if fit to tell him. He's sick of being treated like a child. He's not fragile. He's survived more than any of them have and he deserves to be kept informed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blaine asks Wes, feeling betrayed. There's so few people left that he can trust, if he can't rely on his oldest friends, who can he rely on?

"We didn't want to say anything until we knew what the outcome would be," Wes says. "We didn't want you worrying over this for nothing."

"It's unlikely he'll walk free," David explains, giving Blaine a sympathetic look. "This case has too much attention on it for the government to just ignore it. If they don't intervene it will send the message that they condone attacks on homosexuals and they really can't afford that."

"This wasn't an attack on _homosexuals_, this was an attack on my family," Blaine says, bitterly. "Everyone keeps making this political. It's like they don't see that we're real people in this. My daughter lost her father and all anybody sees is pawns in a political game. We're just pretty faces to sell stories and further agendas."

"I'm sorry, that's not what any of us meant," Neil says. "How is your daughter? It's Olivia right?"

"Yeah," Blaine says, drawing pictures into the condensation that's gathered on his glass, trying to calm himself down. "She's doing alright. She just started walking with a walker. Her therapist was a little worried because it was taking her longer than expected, but she can do it now, so that's a good sign."

"She broke her leg, right?" David asks.

"Compound fracture," Blaine explains, feeling his anger start to fade. "She had to have surgery."

"Ouch," Neil says, both David and Neil are wincing. "Our girl, Harper, broke her wrist when she was five doing gymnastics. She was a terror for weeks with that cast. I can't imagine..."

"She's doing fairly well, considering," Blaine says. "She hated not being able to walk, but now that she's got the walker figured out, she's better. It's her anxiety issues that have me worried."

"I just keep picturing myself in your shoes," Neil says. "I don't know what I would do if this had happened to my family."

"Let's hope you never have to find out," Blaine says with a tight smile.

"Well we should probably get going," David says. "We've got two teenagers home alone at home and that's always a scary thought."

"It was really nice of you to stop by," Wes says, shaking their hands.

"It was nice to meet you both," Blaine says, surprised as David pulls him into a hug.

"We just want you to know that you're not alone in this," Neil says, grabbing onto his hand once David has let him go. "The media is going to be the media, regardless. But this case is bigger than you. Everyone wants justice for Jake. I don't know if you realize how easily this could have been any of us."

"Thank you," Blaine says, realizing that as much as he might want everyone else to forget, he can't expect them to. This case is about Jake. It's always been about Jake to Blaine. To countless of other families out there that have been waiting for equality, this case is their chance to be heard. Their chance to push for change. And Jake would want that.

It doesn't make the media circus okay. It doesn't mean he's comfortable with the country knowing his name. But he understands now. This is beyond him.


	6. Weeks pt 1

_Week 5. _

Blaine sits in front of the coffee table with a 1,000 piece puzzle of Paris in front of him. The TV is on in the background, turned to MSNBC. With everyone out of the house, he feels safe enough to watch the news, to look for information about the case. Kurt's told him to leave it be, but he hasn't heard anything in seven days. Not since the FBI took over and the case got moved to a federal court. He's going crazy.

There's a lot that he's missed out on in the weeks that he's been avoiding any and all news sources. North Korea has fired on a small island of South Korea's. There was a school shooting at a university in Connecticut. The protests against the Spanish government have finally ended after the president of the Spanish Senate stepped down. Then there are, of course, the more personal stories. The ones that hit too close to home for Blaine.

The state of Ohio has introduced a bill that would include attacks against sexual orientation as a hate crime—Jake's Law, they are calling it. It's meeting a lot of resistance at the moment from right wing groups. However, experts believe that the bill will eventually pass. After the president admitted, in not so many words, that he didn't think the state of Ohio was doing enough for American Civil Rights, he FBI took over Jake Anderson's case. The Senate will be pressured to vote in favor of the bill. The real question comes if the Assembly will allow the bill to pass.

Then there's another bill that they are talking about this morning. One that Blaine is all too familiar with. The one that has turned his life into a media circus. The one that has evangelists coming up to him on the street to try and change him. The one that caused the largest protest and counter-protest in Westboro Baptist Church's history to occur at Jake's funeral. It's the bill to legalize same-sex marriage at the federal level. It's the main story today, no matter what channel he turns to. Today, just an hour or so ago, the bill was approved and has been sent to the House of Representatives for a vote.

Blaine should probably be happier about this. He's been waiting for marriage to be legal in all fifty states since he came out eighteen years ago. Unfortunately, it doesn't feel like something to celebrate. It feels like another thing that has been taken away from him. They might be legalizing gay marriage, but he's never going to be able to take advantage of it. Not after he's lost his husband.

Blaine continues to work on the puzzle with the news playing in the background. It's a familiar and welcome sound. He used to watch CNN every morning with Jake. They used to share the Times over breakfast. Jake was obsessed with world politics and if Blaine had any hope of keeping up with conversations, he had to be equally informed. It's strange, knowing that he hasn't watched the news in weeks. That he had no idea there was protesting against the Spanish government, let alone that it had ended.

It gives him something to do, something to focus his attention on. It's the first day back to school for the kids of New York City. Any other year, Blaine would be at school, yelling at kids to stop showing off their latest Christmas presents and get to class. He'd be buried under papers that should have been graded before the break. Papers that Jake would have dragged him away from so that the two of them could enjoy a winter stroll in Central Park. But this year is different. This year, Blaine isn't even allowed to go back to work. Not until the case is over. Not since he's been banned from the classroom thanks the the school boards concern over how his "fame" will affect the students. No, he won't be returning back to work until his life becomes less chaotic.

It sucks. He hadn't had time to realize how much it sucked before. Between doctors visits, Olivia's therapy and the preliminary hearing, Blaine's been keeping busy. But now Olivia is back in preschool and there isn't set to be another hearing for months. He's driving himself crazy, stuck here alone. He just wants to get back to living his life so that he can at least have a distraction from his ever darkening thoughts. There's numerous times he thinks about working out to relieve his stress, but those thoughts never last long. With a cast still on his wrist, he can't lift weights or attend his old boxing class. He can't even go running without a bodyguard, and bringing John along with him isn't something he feels like doing.

"Hey," Kurt says, walking through the front door and dropping his keys and laptop on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," Blaine says, surprised to see Kurt home this early. He wasn't supposed to be back from his meetings until well after Olivia got home from school. Blaine checks to clock to make sure that he hasn't lost track of time and forgotten to pick her up from school, but the clock says it's only ten thirty. He's still got another four hours before it's time to go get her.

"What are you watching?" Kurt asks, stepping into the living room and giving the TV a wary look.

"They're talking about the gay marriage bill," Blaine says, focusing his attention back on the puzzle. He doesn't want to see the judgmental look Kurt will give him for turning on the news. Kurt's been so adamant about keeping him away from anything that might potentially upset him, and the TV has been one of those things.

"Is that a puzzle?" Kurt asks, amused. Blaine's surprised that he hasn't gotten a lecture, but maybe it's still to come.

"I got it out of your office, I hope that's okay?" Blaine says, suddenly realizing that he never asked Kurt if it was alright for him to go into his office. He hopes Kurt doesn't get upset with him for snooping.

"I bought that thing years ago, I liked the picture and wanted to hang it but I never had the time or patience to put it together," Kurt says.

"Well I've got plenty of time, now," Blaine says bitterly.

"Does it help?" Kurt asks.

Blaine gives him a confused look, he's not entirely sure what he means.

"The puzzle?" Blaine asks and Kurt nods his head. "Yeah, I guess it does. It's probably stupid."

"If it helps, it's not stupid," Kurt says, settling himself into one of the chairs.

"I just…I know if I keep working on it, eventually it will be solved," he says, trying to put into words why he's been overcome with this intense need to put together this old black and white, incredibly difficult puzzle. "I guess it's a problem that has a solution."

Kurt doesn't respond for a few minutes, but Blaine can feel him watching closely. It unnerves Blaine and he's about to tell him so, when Kurt slips quietly from his chair to the ground next to Blaine. Silently, he begins to help putting the puzzle together. It reminds Blaine of high school. Back when they were younger and would hang out every day after school in the Hummel-Hudson living room, doing homework together. It's nice being in Kurt's company again. Comforting.

That is, until Blaine remembers how those study sessions often ended in make-outs and suddenly, he's on his feet and pacing the floor.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asks, looking at him with those beautifully concerned eyes.

Well that's a loaded question if Blaine's ever heard one. Is he alright? Of course he's not alright. His husband is gone and he's more lonely than he's ever been and he was just... what was he just doing? Was Blaine taking comfort from Kurt? Of course not. Well, he was, but not like that. No. They are friends and will only ever be friends.

Maybe the media is right. They've been calling him promiscuous. Stating that he couldn't have cared about Jake that much if he is spending so much time with "Broadway's Favorite Playwright." They've even gone as far as saying that Blaine must have wanted this to happen... even though he knows deep down he didn't, he's starting to wonder if they're right. Jake deserved so much more than someone who would run back to his old boyfriend.

_7 Weeks._

Blaine can't stop staring at his cast-less wrist as he sits down to lunch with Rachel. He's just come from his final doctor's visit, where his wrist had been declared officially healed and his clunky cast was removed. He feels like a free man. He can finally start boxing again, albeit only lightly at first. The last physical reminder of the attack is gone, now all that's left are his nightmares and occasional flashbacks to contend with. Olivia's still got another few months in her cast, though. The thought sobers him up a bit. He shouldn't be so happy to get rid of his cast when Olivia's still having to use a walker to get around.

"I was surprised that you called," Rachel says after they've both put in their orders with the waitress. "You haven't returned my calls in three weeks."

"I know, I'm sorry," Blaine says, his cheeks becoming red with shame. He hasn't exactly been a stellar friend during this entire process.

"Are we going to talk about it or just pretend it didn't happen?" Rachel says, giving him an understanding look. Silently telling him that it's alright. That all can be forgiven. That they only have to talk about it if Blaine wants to talk about it.

"Can I get back to you on that?" Blaine asks. He doesn't know what exactly made him stop returning Rachel's messages or what made him pick up the phone yesterday and invite her to lunch. He hasn't understood of lot of things in awhile.

"Of course," Rachel says with a small smile. "So how's life in the penthouse?"

"Rachel," he says, shooting her a warning look. He should have realized that getting a free pass for not calling her meant she expected him to talk about Kurt.

"What? I'm just curious," she says, shrugging, like she doesn't see what's wrong with her question. Like she thinks Blaine can't read through her by now and see her real motives. As much as Rachel has changed, she's still the same nosey meddler she's always been.

"I'm serious," he says, trying to end the discussion.

"Okay, fine," Rachel says, crossing her arms and pouting like a spoiled child. "Kurt's off limits, I won't bring him up."

"Thank you," he says, knowing that the truce can only be temporary.

"It's just that, we've done this before and it's never turned out good," she says, pointing at him over-dramatically. It reminds Blaine too much of Cooper, and he has to try hard not to laugh. It's always been hard to take Rachel seriously when she gets like this. "You tell me that he's changed and it's going to be different this time. That you'll just be friends. But next thing I know, Santana's calling me and informing me that she's caught you two practically having sex on a couch in Vegas at Mike's bachelor party."

"She told you about that?" he asks, outraged. Santana had promised him that she would never tell anyone. She hadn't even seemed to care that much when she walked in on the two of them. Why would she tell Rachel of all people?

"You were married, Blaine. Honestly, what were you thinking?" she asks, looking scandalized.

"I'm going to kill her," he mumbles to himself.

"I don't understand why you put yourself in these situations. You've never been able to control yourself around Kurt and in the end it's always _you_ that ends up hurt," she says, condescendingly. "Did you even tell Jake about it?"

It's grating on his nerves. It's been years since that night. He's put it behind him. Hell, he's even confessed to Jake and they've gotten passed it as a couple. Together. But leave it to Rachel Berry to bring it up again and make him feel completely guilty for no reason.

"Okay, first of all, Jake knew about that and it's none of your business what did or didn't happen between Kurt and me. Second of all, that was years ago, and I haven't talked to Kurt since then. We've had a lot of time apart. I'm not going to jump into his bed just because it's there. My husband died and I've got a child to think about. Do you honestly think that little of me?"

"No, of course not," she says.

"I'm not going back to Kurt," he says, crossing his arms defensively. "He's helping me. You know, something friends are supposed to do for each other."

Blaine knows that she means well. He just wishes she would be a little bit more understanding. If he's making a mistake, then it's a mistake that he needs to make on his own. He's not going to change his mind just because she's asked him to.

"I just know the effect Kurt has on you," she continues on, completely ignoring his dig at what a horrible friend she is being. "I know what it's like to be dumped by the person you love and how tempting it can be to go back to them, but it's not a good idea."

"Don't make this about you and Finn," Blaine says with a roll of his eyes. He can't sit through another Finn/Mitch debate, not today. He can't listen to her argue over the stresses of having two options while Jake's dead. "And don't make this about you and Kurt either, for that matter."

"I just want you to seriously think about what you're doing," Rachel says. "Because I've been there each and every time Kurt _hasn't_ changed and he's broken your heart, and I don't want to see it happen again. Not when you're already in such a fragile emotional state."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Blaine asks, his voice loud enough to turn several heads in their direction. He lowers his head quickly before anybody looks at them for too long and recognizes him.

"You're lonely without Jake and you're using Kurt to substitute that loss," Rachel explains carefully, as if he's some child that's discovering Santa Claus isn't real. "It's understandable, normal even to want to replace what you've lost—"

"Replace what I've..." He wants to argue with her. He has a million things that he wants to say, but they are all fighting for release from him and he can't get anything out fast enough. He's completely flabbergasted. He knows that Rachel can be... well _Rachel_ at times, but she's his best friend for a reason. She's always been understanding and helpful before. He doesn't understand why she's pushing this so hard now. Can't she see how close he is to breaking. How he's barely holding it together. Is she trying to break him?

"Okay, you know what, no," he says, words finally coming to him. "You don't get to tell me what I'm doing. I'm not you. Jake _died_. I wish you would stop trying to act like you understand what that means. I wish you would just stop seeing things through your eyes for once and try to see them through mine. I don't _want_ to get back with Kurt. We dated a long time ago and it was great, but then it wasn't. He's insanely career driven and would sell my darkest secrets if it would make a good musical. Hell, he already has."

Blaine tries not to think too hard about what he's saying. Tries not to dig the pain of the past up when he's got more than enough of it right here at the top. He can feel his voice starting to give way. It's starting to crack, but he's fighting to keep it together long enough to get through this, because this is something that she desperately needs to hear and he needs to say.

"You don't need to rehash everything from our past for me to see that Kurt and I will never work. Alright? I'm not daydreaming about a knight in shining armor that will come and take away all the pain. I'm being _realistic_. I can't be a romantic anymore, I can't afford it. Not when I've got reporters hounding me for interviews, courts summoning me to testify and relive the shittiest day of my life, a daughter who's struggling to get through physical therapy and quite possibly won't ever walk right again... God, I'm dealing with more than I can handle and it's more than any of _you_ can handle. You can't call US Weekly and get them to stop running a five page spread detailing the entire police report. You can't get me a bodyguard so that I can take Olivia out without worrying that she's going to get hurt. You can't do anything but sit here and make me feel like shit over something that happened years ago. Well thanks, but I feel like shit enough without you and Cooper adding onto that pain. So can you just be the friend I need rather than the friend you think you should be?"

He's proud of himself for getting it all out in the open, even if the gentleman in him is cringing at the harsh words.

"I'm just trying to help," Rachel says, tears falling from her eyes.

He knows that he's hurt her with his words, but he won't take them back. He knows she deserved at least half of what he's said. And this way, at least he knows she's finally heard him.

"I know you are," he says with a deep sigh. "But you can't. Nobody can. This isn't something that can be fixed with a band-aid and a song. I'm not saying staying with Kurt is the perfect solution. But it works for now. I just... I don't need you to help. I just need you to be there. Please, you're my best friend. I can't _do_ this without you."

And there it is, the last of his resolve crumbles and he begins to cry. At first the tears fall silently from his eyes, but soon he's ducking his head to try and hide the hysterical tears. Trying to stifle the ugly, gut-wrenching moan of pure agony that's settled in his throat.

"You don't have to, I've always been here," she says. There's not a hint of the overly dramatic voice that she uses when she's too busy worrying over saying the right thing. Instead, her voice is soft and caring, the tone that tells Blaine she's being completely sincere. She's acting on instinct instead of rehearsed lines of comfort. This is the woman he trusted enough to carry his child. This is the Rachel that's always been able to help him. This is his best friend.

"I just..." He has to pause as another strangled cry makes its way to the surface. "I need you. I need to be able to talk to you without feeling like you're going to tell me everything I've done wrong."

"Blaine," Rachel says, pulling her chair over so that she can pull him into her arms. "Is this why you didn't call me? Because you were afraid I would judge you?"

"No, maybe? I don't know," he says, still not sure what took him so long to pick up the phone. "Everything's just... It's too much sometimes and I don't know what to say to make people happy."

"Why on Earth are you worried about making people happy? That's our job," she says, rubbing at the back of his neck where his hair meets sensitive skin. It's such a mothering thing to do and it starts to put him at ease.

"I don't want to inconvenience people," Blaine cries into her shoulder. "I don't know how to do this."

"Of course you don't," she says. "You're not supposed to."

"I'm just ready for this to start getting better," he says. "Everyone keeps saying it will happen but I don't feel it. What if it never gets better? What if it's like this for the rest of my life."

"You'll figure it out," she whispers into his ear. "You always do. You're strong. You're a fighter."

"If you start singing, I'll leave," Blaine says with a slight smile as he pulls away from her to clean up his face. His tears have started to subside and he feels more than a little silly for breaking down in the middle of a restaurant.

"You realize a perfectly good opportunity to sing Mariah is going to waste," she says with a look that tells him that was exactly what she had planned on doing.

"The horror," he says, discretely looking around to see if anyone has been watching the entire exchange. He hopes not. The last thing he needs is a picture of him sobbing to hit the internet.

"One verse," she tries to bargain with him. If it were anyone other than Rachel Berry, he would say they were just trying to tease him to make him feel better. But he's absolutely positive that she really is willing to get up and sing with him in this crowded restaurant.

"No," he says, still traumatized from the last time she sang to him at Rockefeller Center last Christmas when they all went ice skating.

"It's only a verse."

"One verse always turns into a chorus, and it's just one step away from the whole thing. No," he says, a smile starting to form on his lips.

"Remember when you used to be fun?" She says, leaning back in her chair to pout at her lost opportunity to show off her talent.

"Remember when you convinced me to duet with you at Macy's and I got a shoe thrown at me. A _shoe_?" He says, unable to control his laughter at the memory.

"Fine," Rachel grumbles. "But you are coming over after we finish lunch and you're watching _Beaches_ with me."

_14 Weeks_

The entire week leading up to Valentine's Day is a rough one for Blaine. There are Valentine's Day decorations everywhere. The mail is filled with jewelry catalogs advertising pieces for that "someone special." Olivia's class is having a Valentine's Day party and she insists that he take her shopping for a themed outfit—let it never be said that she's not Rachel's daughter. And there are Valentine's Day cards to put together for all twenty-six students in her class. On a scale of one to ten—one being Valentine's Day his senior year, when Kurt flew back from New York to surprise him and ten being the Gap Attack—this is a twenty.

Luckily, Olivia has gotten her fill of Valentine's Day at school on Friday, and now that it's Saturday, and actually Valentine' Day, she's ready to boycott it with him by taking a trip to the Children's Museum. However, Blaine didn't realize how difficult it would be for Olivia to manage the museum with a walker. She's gotten much better at moving around on her own and the museum is completely handicap accessible, but a lot of the exhibits aren't made for a girl in a walker. She can't jump, she can't climb and while her crawling skills are superb, they aren't fast enough to satisfy the fast-paced kids of New York City.

Needless to say, by the time lunch rolls around, he's dealing with one grumpy toddler. One who is certainly not in the mood to have her photograph taken and be pointed at. And she's certainly not in the mood to talk to strangers; she barely wants to talk to her father. But that's exactly what happens when they sit down to eat their lunch.

"Tell them to go away," she grumbles into her chicken fingers.

"It's not that easy, Littlebit," Blaine explains, doing his best to keep his head down so that less people notice them. It's a lost cause. Between Olivia's walker and the mess of curls he's let his hair become they are rather hard to miss.

"Then putted them in a time-out," she says. "That's what Ms. Michelle does when Tommy talk about Papa."

This causes Blaine to pause, because the school hasn't mentioned any problems that she's having at school. He wonders how many of the kids are aware of what happened to Olivia's dad and what they are saying to her. He assumed if there was a problem, Olivia would have told him, but perhaps not.

"Are you Blaine Anderson?" a young man, probably still in college, comes up to their table.

Blaine just looks at him, unable to respond. He's still far too polite to tell him to fuck off like he'd like to. But he can't muster up a friendly smile either. Olivia looks ready to murder him. She's got her hands in tiny fists, crushing a poor french fry and getting ketchup down her entire sleeve.

"I just wanted to say thank you," the man says with a smile, completely oblivious to how unwelcome his presence is.

""Thank you?" Blaine repeats, in disbelief, aware of several sets of eyes watching the entire exchange. He is sure they are waiting for him to snap so that they can film it and sell the footage.

"Yeah," he says with far too much energy for such a tragic Valentine's Day. "Because of you, my boyfriend and I might finally be able to be married in our hometown. We're both from Alabama."

"Well that's great," he says, his tone completely bitter. By the smile on the man's face, he hasn't caught the sarcasm behind Blaine's words.

"Have a good Valentine's Day," the man says with a final wave and walks back over to his group of friends. Blaine snorts in disbelief.

"He should goed in time out," Olivia says, throwing her crushed french fry at the spot the man had been standing in. Blaine picks it up and shoots her a warning look, she knows better than to throw food.

"Sorry," she mumbles, insincerely. "His shirt was ugly, too."

"You've been spending too much time with Kurt," Blaine says, finally cracking a small smile.

She puts her head in her hands, getting mashed bits of potato in her hair and ketchup down her cheek. She's tired and grumpy, and he knows he should get her back to the apartment so that she can nap. The trip is a complete bust and did nothing to get his mind off of Valentine's Day and how much he misses Jake.

Blaine finishes off his salad quickly while Olivia attempts to sleep in her lunch. He wants to call Kurt and tell him all about what's happened. He knows his friend will have his own colorful commentary to add that will make Blaine feel better. Only, Kurt's in the recording studio all day long and has his phone on silent. He knows that Kurt checks his phone often enough that he could get a hold of him if he wanted to, but he doesn't.

Kurt's finally getting some work done on his newest musical and he doesn't want to distract him. He knows his constant presence has affected his friend's career. He knows Kurt had to give up some of his bonus because he finished the screenplay adaption of _Sapphire_ two weeks late. He also knows, though Kurt refuses to admit it, that he forfeited his rights to future residuals off of the movie adaptations of _Above All Else_ and _Sapphire _in exchange for NBCUniversal to not show footage from the upcoming trial or report on the case. Neil and David admitted as much the night they met over drinks. It took a lot more to get the company to agree to it, to the tune of at least four other celebrities stepping forward and forfeiting residual rights to cover the lost profits the company would encounter.

It's too much for people to be sacrificing just for his sake. Especially when the biggest media conglomerates are still running his face and reporting all the details of the upcoming trial.

"You ready to get out of here?" Blaine asks and gets no response from his daughter.

He quickly trashes their lunches and returns to collect their things. It's nearly impossible to juggle everything. Olivia is dead weight in his arms and he can barely hold onto her and her walker. Their stroller had to be checked upon entry and the long trek back to the lobby seems so far away.

By the time Blaine makes it back to the lobby to retrieve their stroller, his arms are burning. It's a sign that he hasn't been working out as often as he probably should be. He certainly hasn't been working out as often as he used to. Even with his cast gone, he hasn't found the energy to make it to the gym. He knows it would help him manage the depression he's fallen into better.

The attendant that works the stroller check in helps him get everything situated. Between the two of them, they manage to get Olivia into the stroller without waking her up, fold up her walker to stick it in the carriage below, and situate the backpack over the handles so he doesn't have to carry it anymore. When he thanks her, she tells him that she understands what it's like to be a single parent. She lets him know how brave he is for attempting any public place on a Saturday, but she gives no indication that she recognizes him. It's nice for a change, to be treated like any other parent in his position and not like a man whose poor luck has caused him to become the face of gay marriage and hate crimes.

Olivia doesn't wake up until they are a block from home.

"Daddy?" she says, still groggy. She leans back in the stroller to look at him upside down. Her hair is a bit of a mess, large chunks are coming out of the ponytail he'd put it in this morning, but she no longer seems to be in a bad mood.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" he asks, leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

"Yeah," she says, sighing loudly. "Daddy?"

He hums in response, debating if he should swing by and pick up something for dinner before they get home. He doesn't want to have to go out again and he can't remember if there is anything he can cook at home.

"Do you want to be my Valtine?" She asks, giving him a tentative look, like there is a possibility that he might say no. It's the simplest request, but after the day he's had, it still brings tears to his eyes. No matter what has happened and how much he wishes he could change the past, he knows he is insanely lucky to still have Olivia in his life. He doesn't know how he would have survived as long if he didn't have her to take care of. If he didn't have her sweet face to look at all the time and give him strength.

"That sounds perfect," he says. "There's nobody I love more."

Blaine decides to forgo picking up dinner; he can always order pizza in later if they need to. They make their way down the now familiar street and through the residents' entrance of their building. They both wave at Kevin, the doorman they've come to know well. Blaine is grateful that he's considerate enough not to wish them a Happy Valentine's Day, though he knows he's wished it to all the other residents coming in and out.

He is surprised to see Kurt's boots lying by the door when they return home. He didn't think his friend was supposed to be home until very late at night.

"Kurt?" he calls out, curiously, while he's helping Olivia out of her winter coat.

"Yeah?" Kurt's voice calls out from only a few feet away. Blaine looks around and notices his friend sitting at the kitchen island, laptop open and papers spread out like he's been there awhile. He wonders how he'd missed him.

"Oh, I didn't expect you," Blaine says, lamely.

"Kevin at the front desk called me when you left the hotel," Kurt says.

"So you came home?" Blaine asks, confused. "You know, cell phones exist for a reason."

"Of course not," Kurt explains. "Alejandro booked a photo shoot with Marc Jacobs so we couldn't record the duet today. I finished up with Lexi a few hours ago."

Olivia wiggles out of the stroller to the floor and begins trying to wrestle the walker out from where it's been stuffed under the stroller. Blaine leans over to help her out before she can hurt herself. He pulls out the walker and pops it open, resisting the urge to help her stand back up. Her therapist has been telling him that he has to start letting her do things on her own so she can build up strength. It's hard though having to watch her struggle to pull herself up with only her arms and one leg.

"Besides," Kurt continues. "I didn't want to crowd you. I figured you needed some space. Though I still wish you had taken somebody with you."

"It's Valentine's Day, John deserves to spend the day with his wife, not following me around," Blaine says, daring Kurt to challenge him.

"I'm not lecturing you," Kurt says, rubbing at a spot between his eyebrows like he does when he's stressed. "You're an adult. You can make your own decisions; I don't want you to feel like I'm suffocating you."

"You're not," Blaine says, giving him a half smile that qualifies as a truce.

"So did anything interesting happen?" Kurt asks, directing his attention back to his laptop.

"People tooked our picture a lot," Olivia says, finally managing to pull herself up. She moves herself over to Kurt's barstool and stares up at him expectantly.

"Well it must be because you were the most beautiful girl they have ever seen," Kurt says, pulling at her hair and starting to fix the mess that her ponytail has become. Over her head, he shoots Blaine a curious look. Blaine just shakes his head. It's not something he wants to get into now.

"No, it's because of Papa," Olivia says. "They all want to asked questions about him."

It's a testament to how comfortable they've both become around each other that Kurt's willing to fix her hair and engage in conversation with her, and she's not whispering answers behind the shy hands that usually cover her face. It's sweet to watch, but it also reminds him of Jake. Enough that he's once again blinking back tears.

"Well they're just curious," Kurt explains in a patient voice Blaine hasn't heard in years. "They know that you had the best two dads in the whole world."

"Did you have a good daddy?" Olivia asks, previous anger completely evaporated in a way only a four year old can manage.

"The best," Kurt answers.

"That's good," Olivia says, pulling away with a wince when Kurt accidentally pulls too hard on a tangle. He apologizes and she leans back in, placated. Blaine knows there's nothing she loves more than somebody playing with her hair. "I'm not allows to meet Papa's daddy. Cooper says he's a meanie. And Daddy's daddy goed to heaven with Papa."

Kurt and Blaine's eyes lock as they both remember years prior, when Blaine's dad died and it was all they could do to keep both Blaine together and their relationship afloat. It had been the start of the end for them. It's not a memory he likes to relive.

"Alright, Liv," Blaine says, coming over to pull her into his arms and away from Kurt. "Let's let Kurt work. Besides, I believe we have a Valentine's Day date to get on with."

"Daddy said he be my Valtine," Olivia says with a smile, completely unaware of the painful memory she's just triggered in both of them.

"Well, you're one lucky girl then," Kurt says. "Your daddy makes an excellent Valentine."

Blaine's not sure if he really means it, or if he's just saying it for Olivia's sake. He shrugs it off, and pulls her into their bedroom where there is a small TV set up in front of the king size bed they share. Kurt has offered to clear out his office so that Olivia can use it as a bedroom, since it doesn't look like they will be moving out anytime soon, but Blaine's refused. He knows it's not healthy but they still can't sleep without each other.

He pops _Monsters, Inc._ into the DVD player and cuddles with Olivia as the opening credits begin to roll. It's one of the few movies that they can still watch together without crying. _The Lion King_ has Mufasa's death. _Mulan_ was safe until Olivia realized that the helmet Li Shang finds meant his father was dead. _The Little Mermaid_ was the last movie Olivia watched with Jake. _Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, _and even _Wall-E_ are romantic enough for Blaine to bawl like a baby. When they have to rule out anything romantic or involving the death of a character, there are very few movies left to choose from.

About three fourths of the way through the movie, around the time that Mike and Sculley discover Randall's secret, Kurt joins them. He sits next to the bed, curled up under one of the many blanket-throws that lie around the apartment. Kurt claims they are for decoration purposes, but Blaine knows how easily he gets cold.

"You know," Kurt says, turning to lean both elbows on the bed and look at Blaine properly. "If you want to get out of the house more, I could use some help at work."

"I don't think Broadway is part of the low profile you've told me to keep," Blaine says, joking a bit. Broadway hasn't been his dream in a long time, and Kurt knows that.

"I'm recording a demo for the studio tomorrow," Kurt explains, completely ignoring the skeptical look Blaine's giving him. "They called me the other day to tell me they want another new song for the movie and I haven't been able to find anyone to help me record one. There won't be a lot of people there and I already know you've got the range for the song."

"I haven't sung in years," Blaine says, waving his hands dismissively and jostling Olivia. She sits up to shoot both of them a dirty look for disrupting her movie.

"I've heard you singing to her at night," Kurt says, this time much quieter to avoid Olivia's wrath. "You can still sing."

"I don't perform anymore. Broadway isn't my dream, that's Rachel and you," Blaine says, hoping it ends the discussion.

"It's just a demo," Kurt says in a soft voice, pausing to send a quick message on his phone. Always multi-tasking. "It's just so the studio heads can get a feel for the song. It will be re-recorded before it's released."

Blaine doesn't respond, he's not sure how he feels about Kurt's offer. On one hand, yes, it would be amazing to be able to sing again, even if it was only for a demo. To be able to lose himself in song for a few hours like he used to sounds divine. But it doesn't seem appropriate. People have been saying he's enjoying the perks of Jake's death too much and this just sounds like adding fuel to that fire. Besides, he gave up on performing years ago. It wasn't for him. He wanted something stable, he wanted a family.

"I'm not saying you have to do it, it was just a thought. I know how much performing used to help you deal with things... Just promise me you'll think about it," Kurt says. "It'd be good for you to get out of the house. To have something besides these four walls and Olivia to keep you company. You'd be doing me a favor."

_15 Weeks_

Blaine stands in the recording booth of the small studio that Kurt rents out. It's becoming more and more familiar. Ever since Blaine agreed to record the demo for the studio, Kurt's been using him as a guinea pig for new songs. It's a good deal for both of them. Kurt gets to try out new ideas without having to pay his talent for the hours it takes him to figure out the right balance of vocals. He saves hours on labor, only bringing in his stars when he's perfected the songs. Blaine gets to feel like he's earning his stay with Kurt for once, he's finding himself in the studio at least three times a week now. With Kurt's show looking like it's going to open off-Broadway next month, there's been a mad rush of writing and re-writing going on to make sure everything is perfect.

Blaine's seen the workshops, he's never sure why things have to be changed, but once he sees the re-writes, they are always a million times better than before. He's proud of Kurt. It's the first show that he's written completely by himself and that's practically unheard of in the Broadway circuit. With the exception of a very opinionated director and a fairly hands-off producer, Kurt's staged this entire show by himself. The show's been financed by friends, allowing Kurt the freedom to work on his own terms. How he's found the time to do all of this, Blaine has no idea. But according to Kurt, it's been a project he's been working on quietly for years.

_Breakaway_. That's the title. It's a musical based off of Kelly Clarkson's music. It's in the spirit of musicals like _American Idiot_ and the latest success, _21_. It's an idea Kurt's had since the Glee Club days. A page taken out of Mr. Shue's book, to take an entire album and apply it to life. To a story. When Kurt met Kelly Clarkson at a charity benefit when he was twenty-three, he told her about the idea and she loved it. Over the next few years, after his first big paycheck from _Above All Else_, he started slowly paying for the rights to her songs. Now, eight years later, he's finally at a position where he can stage the musical.

Blaine won't ever admit it, but working on the show has sparked something in him. Belting out the empowering lyrics, even if it's only a demo for the stars to practice with, has reminded him of why he started performing in the first place. It's the perfect release. It gives him a channel to deal with all of his emotions. He doesn't have any desire to pursue performing full time. Not after experiencing the nasty side of fame. But this, recording songs that nobody will ever hear, it's amazingly therapeutic.

He thinks Kurt has caught on. He's pretty sure Kurt caught on before Blaine even did. He knows it can't be a coincidence that every time a new song comes along, Blaine's conveniently the only option available to record it. But they never talk about it—even when Blaine's voice cracks repeatedly on songs like "You Can't Win," and "Because of You."

Today they are re-recording "What Doesn't Kill You," because Kurt's suddenly been inspired to slow it down and make it the power ballad of the first act rather than the encore like he'd originally planned. They've been at the studio for five hours, working out the vocals and nothing they try seems to fit. Blaine's had to put in a call to Charlotte, Wes' wife, so that she can pick up Olivia from school and the two of them can continue to work on the song.

The song is gorgeous. It starts out acapella in the beginning and slowly strings begin to join in, but as beautiful as it is, the emotions aren't overpowering like Kurt wants them to be.

"Maybe I should just put it back how it was," Kurt says over the coffee they've stepped out to grab. "Audiences liked 'Behind These Hazel Eyes.'"

"Yeah, but you said they didn't react as much as you thought they needed to," Blaine says. "It's a really good song; we just need to keep working on it. Never give up."

"I like it slowed down, but it sounds like too much of a 'fuck you' how it is. I don't know how we the audience are supposed to forgive Jenna after Brian sings 'Stronger,' the way it is. It's too broken. I've written myself into a corner where Jenna's messed up too bad to win Brian back."

"Not really, you just need to make Jenna redeemable," Blaine says, standing up to throw away their empty coffee cups. They need to get back to the studio if they have any hope of finishing before dinner.

"How am I going to do that? I can't exactly give her another song before the first act is over. It would mess with the flow of things. Besides, is she even redeemable after everything she did?"

"Everyone's redeemable, they just have to be willing to change," Blaine says, giving him a reassuring smile. "Maybe you could make it a duet?"

"Don't be silly, I can't make it a—you're a genius," Kurt says. He's pulling out his phone and punching ideas into his phone at lightning speed. Blaine has to direct him down the street so he doesn't run into anything, since Kurt refuses to look up from the tiny screen. Some things never change. "Oh my God, why did I never do this before? It's the perfect duet, I just need to change... yeah that will work."

Blaine doesn't say anything, Kurt wouldn't hear him anyway. He knows that Kurt's lost in his own little world for awhile and nothing will bring him out of it except finishing whatever it is he's working out. They make it back to the studio and Blaine takes a seat on the couch, playing Tetris on his phone while he waits for Kurt to come back to him. Eventually, about an hour later, he does.

"Alright," Kurt says, looking up from his phone for the first time in an hour and fifteen minutes. "I've had to change a few of the lyrics here and there to make it work, but it's a duet. You'll have to sing both parts though, otherwise we'll need to do it tomorrow morning when I can get Tiffany in here."

"Or you could just sing it with me," Blaine says. "It'd save us some time."

"Me?" Kurt looks at him like he's crazy.

"Don't tell me you won't sing girl's parts anymore," he says.

"No, it's not that I just... You really want to sing a duet with me?" Kurt asks.

"It's just a demo," Blaine says, looking completely confused. He's not sure what the problem is.

"I just... yeah, alright. I'll have to go hunt down somebody to man the soundboard. I don't trust you to do it," Kurt says.

Kurt runs off to find one of the many techs that are always around. It doesn't take him long to find somebody willing to work the board while they record together. Kurt decides it will be better to record both parts at the same time, claims he has a hard time recording songs without somebody physically there to work off of. It's not until they are both in the booth together, Kurt belting out words of longing while Blaine's singing empowering words about moving on, that Blaine sees what Kurt's reservations had been about.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. But despite their own personal drama, the song sounds amazing. After all these years, their voices still blend nicely and now the number has the perfect mix of emotions that are far too powerful to ignore. On opening night, Blaine's sure there won't be a dry eye in the house.


	7. Weeks pt 2

_17 weeks_

"I don't want to go," Blaine says from where he's sprawled out on the couch. No matter what he does, he can't get his mind off of the trial that's supposed to start in four days.

Kurt gives him a sympathetic look, but doesn't say anything. There's nothing he can do, really.

"I know I said that last time, but this time I really don't want to go," he complains, completely ignoring the movie that they had been watching together.

Olivia has long since fallen asleep, but Blaine can't. The nightmares have been too vivid recently to be able to rest comfortably. He feels like Kurt knows. He _must_ know. He's woken up screaming, woken up the whole house, at least three times this week. But if Kurt knows, he hasn't said anything. He gave him a once over when he came back out from the bedroom around ten o'clock, and handed him the remote without a single question.

They've been watching movies ever since. It's well past midnight and Blaine has to leave for the airport in five hours, but he has little intention of actually going to sleep. Not tonight.

"Maybe it will be good for you. To be able to lock up the guy that did this once and for all," Kurt speaks up after a few minutes of silence. Blaine had almost forgotten that they were having a conversation.

"Olivia is finally starting to get past this. We were both doing just fine before I got that summons. Now we have to go back to Ohio and relive it all over again? They are saying it could take months. I'm going to have to pull Liv from school and send her somewhere in Columbus. I don't want her at a school in Ohio, they fuck kids up."

"I'm sorry," Kurt says. "I would go with you if there was a way to—"

"God no, that's the last thing that I want. Your musical opens in a week and a half. You're needed here," Blaine says.

"I know, but if—"

"No," Blaine says firmly. Sure, Kurt's only being hypothetical but he knows how much Kurt has already sacrificed for him and how likely it is Kurt would drop everything to return to Ohio if he thought it would help.

"This show is great," Blaine says, really meaning it. "It's easily the best musical since _Wicked_. I don't want you doing anything that might prohibit you from getting on Broadway."

"This is a change of events," Kurt says, only the faintest bitter tone to his voice. If Blaine hadn't been listening closely, he would have missed it. "Ten years ago you were begging me to put you above my career, now I'm not allowed to even hypothetically consider it."

"Ten years ago, you never would have offered," Blaine says, giving him a pointed look.

_18 Weeks_

The first text comes in while court in recess. Jane, his victim's advocate, has brought him lunch from a local deli since there are journalists camped outside of the courthouse trapping him inside. Blaine is starting to go stir crazy after only two days and he's welcoming any distraction.

From Kurt:

**I don't even want to read the reviews. **

_Breakaway_ had it's opening night Off-Broadway last night, and it had killed Blaine to miss it. He'd seen some of the final rehearsals and he knows there is no way that the show wasn't amazing. And if there were any doubt, Blaine's already scoured the internet for the first reactions.

Apart from one scathing review left on the blog of a man that Blaine's pretty sure is one of Kurt's ex-boyfriends, they are all full of praise. Not that he will admit to looking at the reviews. He wants to seem supportive, not obsessive.

From Blaine:

**You said that last night went great, I'm sure they can't be too bad! Just get it over with ;)**

From Kurt:

**This is theatre, they tear everything apart. Oh God, what if they write about the note that Tyler missed? I'm over. The show is dead. **

Blaine smiles to himself. He's not used to this Kurt. Kurt's always been confident and incredibly self-reliant. He's never needed Blaine to tell him that he's great. He knows it. He exudes excellence. He's always been able to shake off negative opinions much easier than Blaine ever could. This Kurt... he's insecure. It's strange. But it feels nice for the roles to be reversed for a change. It feels nice to be needed, when he's felt so helpless for the last few months.

From Kurt:

**They're gonna hate it, I'm coming out to Ohio with you and hiding from New York. At least until that Batman Musical premieres and gives people something else to bash. **

He decides that enough is enough. He can't sit by while Kurt drowns himself in his own anxiety.

From Blaine:

**Well loved it. **

He hopes that doesn't sound too much like a stalker. Friends look up reviews of other friends shows, right? It's normal for Blaine to have been curious with how opening night went. He'd helped Kurt with some of the songs, after all. Besides, he's stuck in Ohio with nothing to do but wait around as lawyers argue over the smallest details. Did it really matter that there were conflicting reports over the color of the attacker's shirt? Every witness has come forward and positively identified Martin Peterson.

From Kurt:

**What? Really?**

From Blaine:

**There was a big write-up about it this morning when I woke up. **

From Kurt:

**You ass. You knew that the whole time and let me go on and on...**

From Blaine:

**Maybe it's nice to see you freaking out for a change ;)**

"Who are you sending flirty texts to?" Jane asks, trying to peak over his shoulder as Blaine hastily tries to stuff his phone back in his pocket.

"Nothing, no one," he says quickly. "What makes you think I'm flirting with anyone?"

"You've got the same awestruck look on your face that my son gets when he's talking to his girlfriend," she says with a chuckle.

He knows the exactly look that she is talking about. It's the one that got him teased mercilessly in the locker room at McKinley. It's the one that Jake always called cheesy, but couldn't resist. Only, there's no way that he's got that look on his face now. For one, it's completely inappropriate timing. He's in a courthouse for the trial of his husband's murder. And second, he doesn't feel that way about Kurt. That is one thing that he's 1000% sure of. He's just a friend.

"Well, I'm not," he says, before she can ask him any more questions about it. He likes Jane, but it's none of her business who he is texting or what his private conversations are about. "I was just checking up on Olivia,"

"Of course, I apologize. It's certainly not my place," she says, patting his arm gently and handing him her bag of Doritos as a truce. He takes them and opens them, trying to finish his lunch quickly. It won't be long before they have to go back into the courtroom.

"But if it were my business..." she says, trailing off to give him a slightly hesitant look, as if she's not sure if he's going to get upset that she's pushing this. "You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Moving on is a normal part of the grieving process. It doesn't mean that you love Jake any less if you are looking for companionship. And even if you're not, there's nothing wrong with a little friendly flirting either. It's good for the self-esteem. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

"I'll keep that in mind," he says, not wanting to be rude by telling her that isn't what he's doing.

She doesn't understand. That's how he and Kurt have always been. Even when they first met and there was absolutely nothing between them hadn't Blaine taken Kurt by the hand and serenaded him? That's just... That's how they work. Sure they are affectionate, and some could even call it flirting, but that's just how they are. It doesn't have to mean anything.

It can't mean anything. Blaine has a husband... _had_ a husband. Had. Jake is gone. He's not coming back and it would be wrong for Blaine to forget him so quickly when he'd lost his life in a fight that should have been Blaine's.

"We should get back inside," Jane says, standing up to throw away their trash. "They'll be starting up again soon."

They walk the short distance back to the courtroom in silence. He thinks Jane recognizes that he just needs some time to think. She's always good about leaving him alone when he wants to be. As they enter the courtroom and take their seats on the left side, Blaine looks across the aisle at where Mrs. Peterson is sitting. He gives her a small smile before turning towards the front. He still hasn't built up enough courage to talk to her and personally thank her for all that she's done. He knows this has to be just as painful for her as it has been for him, if not more so.

The bailiff calls the court to order and Blaine hastily checks his phone one last time before he has to turn it off. There is one final text from Kurt, a response to Blaine's earlier teasing.

From Kurt:

**Or maybe you're just an ass ;)**

See, friends, nothing more. He reassures himself. Everyone is overreacting for nothing.

_Week 19_

"It worked! I'm pregnant!" Rachel says, a giddy smile on her face as she throws her arms around them both. Jake is squeezing his hand painfully, but Blaine barely notices. He's too overcome with relief. After months of trying and failing to adopt, they're going to have a baby. Rachel is going to give them a baby!

The sun is shining brightly and is casting a harsh golden glow over everything. It's one of the happiest moments of his life, yet everything looks distorted. Sinister, like the perfect moment is about to be ripped away from them. They can't possibly be about to have their happily ever after.

There is a loud sound reverberating through the park. It's a hard smack and he knows that the sound should be familiar. It's pulling on him, a memory he can't quite reach.

"No, I've tried everything," he hears Cooper's voice in the background. He thinks he must be imagining it. He looks around and his brother is nowhere to be found. He'll be in Mississippi right about now, picking up Emmy. It's his visitation week. "He won't stop shaking or crying, I'm seriously worried."

Blaine closes his eyes and opens them again, just to adjust against the glaring sunlight, and he finds himself in the bathroom of the courthouse. There is tacky tile on the floor and too dark wood covering the walls, but it's empty and he's finally away from the incessant questions. How dare they question him like that? Where did they get off treating him like some gold digging tramp that tricked Martin Peterson into killing his husband so he could be free of the "suffocating student loans" that Jake's medical schooling had put them in.

"Mr. Anderson, please unlock the door," the lawyer calls to him through the door, but Blaine only sinks further into the opposite wall. He has no intention of ever coming out again. "Peterson's lawyer is calling for a mistrial, you need to get back on the stand."

"No Wes, I'm telling you, it's like he's broken or something. It's worse than the panic attacks he got in college," Cooper says from somewhere behind him. Blaine's not sure how he got here. How he came to be curled up on his mother's couch. Everything is blurred in an odd way, like he's trying to look at everything underwater. "No, I'm not going to call Kurt. He's completely incapable of handling Blaine when he's like this."

The blaring music coming from the speakers only adds to the dirty feeling that Blaine is getting from this place. There are women everywhere. He's never understood the appeal of boobs to begin with, but it's downright appalling seeing so many of them just flying around the club for drunken men to ogle. Mike is lucky that Blaine likes him enough to put up with it all. Blaine is doing his best to down every full glass of alcohol he sees and keep his back to the stage.

That's when Kurt walks into the party, taking a seat at their full table, apologizes for being late and orders an expensive bottle of champagne to celebrate his favorite member of the chorus getting married.

Blaine wonders when Kurt started filling out. He looks broader, his shirt is pulled snug against his chest hinting at more defined muscles. He doesn't look so much like the boy Blaine feel in love with, he's more manly, taller if that is even possible. Yet when Blaine catches Kurt's eye across the table, all it takes is a small shy smile to realize that underneath the older and incredibly sexy exterior, Kurt's still Kurt.

He looks away quickly and reminds himself that he's just drunk. He has a husband, even if they are currently fighting.

"I'm not sure, Jane had to call me. They finally called him to the witness stand today, I think he just snapped," Cooper says, his voice sounds distant, distorted. Blaine can barely hear him over the sounds of Jake screaming at him for cheating.

"We're supposed to be having a baby together and you're off fucking your ex-boyfriend," Jake yells at him.

"To be fair, we never had sex," Blaine says, though he knows that he's the worst husband in the history of all husbands.

The smacking of metal sounds around him, but Blaine doesn't see anything broken. Jake hasn't thrown anything at him. But it keeps booming through their small apartment.

"I know you're married, and this phone call is entirely inappropriate, but I miss you," Kurt's words come out a drunken slur on his voicemail. "And your ass, God, I'm so pissed Santana walked in on us. This is wrong, you're married. You should hang up now. Why aren't you hanging up—Shit this is a voicemail isn't it? Hey Brett, how do you delete voicemails you've left..." Kurt's voice goes distant, like he's walked away from the phone without remembering to hang up.

"It's him or me," Jake says, after three straight weeks of fighting. "If you still love him, I understand. But I need you to tell me."

"It's you," Blaine says with tears filling his eyes. He tilts his head to the side to really look at his husband. He hasn't been this close to him in over a week. Jake's been leaving anytime Blaine tries to approach him. He's missed him, God has he missed him. "It's always going to be you."

Three boys—Blaine's pretty sure they are seniors, though he can't place them—approach Andrew and him as they are waiting outside for Mr. Sanders to pick them up from the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Before Blaine can even get to his feet, they grab him by his hair and throw him face first into the pavement. He hears his friend cry out in pain as they attack him as well. There are kicks to Blaine's stomach and back, knocking the wind out of him. When he reaches out his hand for Andrew, all he can see is the back of his dress coat as he runs away.

"They questioned him for six straight hours. Fuck, you'd think he's the guilty one," Cooper says, his voice vibrating with barely controlled rage.

"Papa!" Olivia screams as Jake is hit over the head with a metal bat.

As the smack of metal resonates throughout the playground, Blaine realizes what the booming in his head as been. It's the deafening, incredibly sickening sound of metal against all too fragile skin and bones. Blaine starts gagging uncontrollably until a trash can is shoved under his nose and he vomits up his lunch.

Over the next several hours—or is it an entire day? He can't keep track—Blaine loops through three cycles. The first, involves him lying on the cold tile of his mother's guest bathroom, unable to stop himself from emptying the entire contents of his stomach. And when that's done and he's left feeling boneless and empty, he hits the second cycle.

Numbness. He sits on the couch staring blankly ahead, realizing that nothing is going to matter to him ever again. The little spark of life he used to have has been blown out in that courtroom. He's lost the will to fight anything. When he reaches the scary point, the point where he wonders if it would be easier if he just ended it, that's when he breaks down into hysterical sobs.

That's when Cooper pulls him into his arms and rocks him back and forth, trying to cheer him up with bad Irish accents and stories from his glory days. And when none of that works, Cooper whispers softly into his ears that he's better than this. That he's strong and he'll make it through this. He reminds Blaine that he's a great father and that he's got Olivia... and when Blaine realizes that he's seriously considered killing himself when he's got a four-year-old daughter who's depending on him, that's when he gets sick again.

Rachel shows up on their doorstep when Blaine's in the middle of one of his numb phases. She's bright and shiny, dressed up in a pink frilly dress and carrying Olivia with her. They both have tiaras on their heads, looking like the beautiful princesses they are. Blaine's mom has been staying at a hotel with Olivia, so that she won't have to see her daddy like this. Rachel must have picked her up first and brought her over to help drag Blaine out of the endless cycles of depression.

Olivia flies out of Rachel's arms at the sight of Blaine and wraps her arms around him tightly, nearly choking him in her desperation to get closer. He feels a dampness growing on his shoulder and realizes that his baby girl is crying. This, if nothing else, pulls at him. Pulls him away from a world where everything is muted and gray and thrusts him into a world full of too sharp edges and glowing colors.

"Hey, Littlebit," Blaine pulls at her arms, loosening their hold so that he can lean back far enough to look at her. "What's the matter?"

"G'ama said you were feeling yucky and that's why I couldn't sleeps with yous, but I got scared'ed. Don't leaves me," she cries and the sound almost makes him vomit again. He's been a pretty shitty father.

"Hey, no, I'm right here," Blaine says, pulling her into a tight hug.

"See? Your daddy is fine," Rachel says, sitting down on the couch with both of them and rubbing Olivia's back gently. She sneaks her other hand up to grab one of his hands in a light squeeze, reassuring all of them that Blaine isn't broken. That he'll be alright.

Blaine thinks he might need to hear that more than anyone else.

_Week 21_

It's nearing the end of April when they finally get a guilty conviction back from the jury. Though there were threats of a mistrial when it became clear that Blaine couldn't get back on the witness stand to continue his testimony, the trial continued on. Blaine's back in New York, sitting down to ice cream and coffee with Kurt and Olivia when the phone call from Jane comes in. Blaine's never been happier to hear a single word in his life.

Guilty.

The phone call lifts a weight off of him that he hasn't even been conscious of. He feels like dancing. He feels like standing up on his chair and serenading the coffee shop they are in, full on Rachel Berry style. He doesn't sing, but he does drop his phone to the floor and swings Olivia around in circles until they are both laughing hysterically. People are staring at them like they are crazy, Kurt included. That's when Blaine shares the good news with him and Kurt bursts into a mix of relieved tears and laughter.

That night, everyone celebrates together over a nice meal at the upscale restaurant Rachel performs at on weekdays. Wes and Charlotte are sitting to his right, asking him if this means that he'll finally be able to go back to work, when Blaine looks over and sees something strange. Rachel and Kurt are engaged in a quiet conversation, and while neither of them looks entirely thrilled, they also aren't killing each other either. Blaine wonders when they decided to start being civil to each other.

"Uncle Blaine," Ashley, Wes' oldest daughter, tugs at his sleeve. At six years old, she's growing taller and taller each day. Blaine is surprised to see that when he's sitting down, she almost comes up to his chin. When did that happen?

"Yeah?" he asks, turning to give her his full attention. She's been sitting in the corner of their private room, reading a story to Olivia and Kent, both of whom are passed out cold on the floor, heads resting on their favorite stuffed animals.

"Does this mean the bad man is in jail?"

"Yeah babe, the bad man can't hurt us anymore," Blaine says, pulling her into his lap so she can help him finish off his dessert.

It's not as simple as that. There is still sentencing to go through. There's still the argument over whether or not to apply the death penalty since federal court allows it when it comes to hate crimes. And there's no doubt that Peterson's lawyer will motion for a re-trial. He's still going to have to fly back to Ohio to give a victim's impact statement. But Ashley doesn't need to be bothered with those things. Hell, Blaine doesn't even feel the need to be bothered with those things at the moment.

Martin Peterson is guilty of 1st degree assault, murder in the 2nd degree and committing a hate crime. Though Blaine has always been hopeful for the first two convictions, he's never quite believed they would ever get a conviction on the last. That any courtroom, U.S. District Court or not, would recognize that this was more than just a simple attack on an unsuspecting family. That this was a crime against homosexuals in general... Well, it gives him something to hope for. Because, while none of this can ever bring Jake back, it has the potential to help change things for the future. It's finally somebody in his life standing up and saying it's not alright to be attacked just because of his sexuality.

It's not the happiest moment in his life by a long shot, but it's one of the most freeing.

That night, Blaine drunkenly falls asleep on the couch, curled up next to Kurt as gentle hands card through his hair.

_Week 23_

The Sunday before the penalty phase of trial begins, Blaine and Olivia show up on Rachel's doorstep with a carefully wrapped present, breakfast from her favorite bakery and a homemade Mother's Day card. Rachel is surprised when she opens the door, they hadn't told her they would be coming over. There was only a quick phone call to Mitch yesterday to make sure that she would be home when they arrived.

Rachel ushers them into her apartment, locking the door behind her.

"You guys didn't have to come all the way down here, I would have come to you," she says, giving him a pointed look.

He knows what she means, what she can't say with Olivia right there. The reporters have been worse than usual. Ever since word got out of his breakdown in court, they've dropped all the overly-faked stories of him being an alcoholic whore and instead have been doing their best to get an interview of him telling his tragic story. It's only gotten more intense with the guilty conviction. They are desperate for shots of him happily enjoying his life now that his "nightmare" is over. It's disgusting how easily they distort reality for ratings and headlines.

"It's Mother's Day!" Blaine says, his enthusiasm is only slightly forced. He really does love celebrating a good holiday. Especially when it gives him a chance to say thank you for the best present he's ever gotten—Olivia.

"Happy Mommies Day, Mommy Rachel," Olivia says, handing Rachel the card she's made. It's covered with bright colors, a picture of the four of them—Jake, Blaine, Rachel and Olivia—and the glitter Kurt had offered up last night when Olivia and Blaine had started putting their surprise together.

Blaine smiles at his daughter with pride, overjoyed with how easily she can stand on her own feet with only one hand on her walker. Next week, she won't even need the damn thing. They are finally going to give her a walking cast almost six months after her surgery.

"Oh my, this is so beautiful," she says, leaning over to give Olivia a kiss on the head. "Did you make this by yourself?"

"Daddy help'ed," she says, beaming with pride.

As the two of them discuss the finer points of glitter and rainbows, Blaine moves to the kitchen to pull out dishes for breakfast. Mitch has already gone off to meet with clients, giving them some family time. Blaine had insisted that wasn't necessary, that Mitch was considered part of the family as well, but Mitch had informed him that he really needed to get some work done and encouraged him to spend the entire day distracting Rachel.

"I saw it, you know," Rachel says as they sit down to cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. Blaine had tried to get two coffees, but Olivia had insisted.

"Saw what?" he asks, unsure exactly what she is talking about.

"Kurt's musical," she says.

"Did you like'd the dresses?" Olivia says, clapping her icing coated hands excitedly. "The purples from the song about flies was my fav'ite."

"It's called Breakaway," Blaine says, grabbing her hands with reflexes only a parent has before she can touch her hair or her shirt. He wipes them clean and hands her a fork with a pointed look. "Remember, we were singing it yesterday?"

"Yeah," Olivia says with a big smile. "Daddy's helping me singed the song. Kurt said I can get a purple dresses too! I want to be just like her."

"That's great," Rachel says, smiling brightly at her. "I think performing is the perfect way to express yourself. We should get you in a dance class once you get your cast off. Or maybe you can take vocal lessons—"

"Rachel," Blaine cuts her off with a small laugh. "She's four, let's calm down for a minute."

"So? It's never too early to nurture young talent. I've been in dance classes since I was three," Rachel says, giving him a pointed look.

"Yes, but you've always wanted to be a performer," Blaine says. "Last week she wanted to be a butterfly and the week before that she wanted to be a lawyer."

Rachel just rolls her eyes dramatically. "Obviously she's just expressing her deeply seeded need to be a performer. She's probably a method actor."

Blaine covers his face as he laughs, missing this. Missing easy Sunday mornings with his family.

"So obviously you two have seen it then," Rachel says.

"Obviously," Blaine says, grabbing another cinnamon roll for himself.

"And?" she asks, waiting for his reaction. What she's expecting, he's not sure, but she's clearly expecting something.

"And it was really good," Blaine says. "Olivia's obsessed with Kelly Clarkson now."

"You realize what it's about, right?"

"It's a love story," he says, giving her a strange look. What is she trying to get at? Did she not like it? He figured she would find a problem with it based on the sheer fact that Kurt wrote it, but she couldn't deny it was good.

"It's about the sacrifices one pays for ambition," she says.

"Okay," he says, not sure what to say to that.

"Oh my God, you didn't see it," Rachel says. "You're oblivious as always. Blaine, sweetie, Jenna is Kurt."

"What? That's ridiculous. Jenna is not Kurt," Blaine says.

"Yeah, Kurt is a boy," Olivia says. She's managed to get more cinnamon roll on her face and shirt than she has in her mouth.

"Liv, baby, why don't you go wash up. If you look hard enough, I put a new princess dress in the guest bedroom. If you can find it, I'll let you keep it," Rachel says, slyly trying to get Blaine alone so she can hound him about this.

"Really?" she yells, her entire face lighting up. "Is it purple?"

"I don't remember, you'll have to show me," Rachel says.

Blaine watches as she shimmies out of her chair and grabs her walker.

"Wash your hands and face first," Blaine says, knowing she has little intention of doing that.

"But Daddy—" she starts to whine, but he cuts her off with a look.

"Nope. Bathroom first," he says, pointing at the door down the hall where the bathroom is. She pouts, but does as she's told, leaving the two adults to talk without little ears listening in.

"The entire show is about a girl who gives up everything for her ambition," Rachel says, giving him an impatient look, like she thinks he's an idiot.

"Yes, but she regrets it in the end because she realizes she still loves Brian. It's a love story."

"Exactly," Rachel says, crossing her arms. "Doesn't that piss you off?"

"Why would that piss me off?" Blaine asks. Being confused when he talks to Rachel is nothing new, but this is something else entirely. This time he has absolutely no idea what she's talking about.

"Because you spent months bitching about how Willamina says, 'you move me,' in _Above All Else_," she says pointing at him to emphasize her point. He buries his head in both of his hands. It's clearly his lot in life to constantly be surrounded by overly theatrical drama queens.

"How is this even the same thing?" Blaine asks. "_Above All Else_ was littered with lines and scenes taken directly from our past. Kurt took extremely painful and private things and put it out there for the world to see. The entire Willamina/Hampton breakup was word for word our break up. Of course I was upset, he didn't even care about how that might affect me. He just cashed in on my pain to make himself more famous."

"Yes but _Above All Else_ wasn't about you and Kurt. With the exception of lines here and there, it was a completely different story. _Breakaway_ is your story," Rachel says, her voice rising and going a bit shrill.

"What are you even talking about? That's not what happened," he says, though the fight is leaving him the more he starts to think about it.

He thinks back to the day in the studio, when he had sung that duet with Kurt. How painful it had felt, how reluctant Kurt was to do it at first. Rachel couldn't be right. There's no way. Kurt wouldn't do this to him again, he was different now. Changed. She was reading into this too much.

"They say that the best writers write what they know," she says.

"He wouldn't, he didn't," Blaine says. "You're just trying to get me upset so I'll consider moving out again."

"Blaine, I really don't care where you live," Rachel says. "If living with Kurt makes you happy, then fine. Live with Kurt. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"So Kurt wrote another musical about us," Blaine says, repeating it. Seeing if it sounds right coming out of his mouth. It doesn't. None of this makes any sense. Why would Kurt willingly give up so much money, give away profits from his hard work to help him if he was just going to use him like this.

Because this has the potential to be his biggest musical yet, the nasty, cynical part of him thinks. Sacrifice a little now, gain so much in the future.

"Oh my God, I actually helped him with this," Blaine says, getting more and more upset the more he thinks about it.

"To be fair, you didn't realize it was happening at the time," she says, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. He shrugs her off. He doesn't want her support. He knows she is probably gloating inside.

"Because I was grieving over my dead spouse! I'm sorry if my mind's been focused on other things. Oh my God, I've been living in his house this whole time. Been crying over Jake, trying to find somebody that I trust enough to get me through this and he's been... what? Cataloguing everything, waiting for something he can use?"

"Just, calm down a bit," she says. "Though I'd rather drink acid than admit this, ruining my voice for all of eternity, Kurt does care about you. Anybody can see that."

"But not more than his career, right?" he says bitterly. "That's what you're going to say. That's how it's always been. Kurt cares enough to take care of me only when it doesn't interfere with his job. Then he'll toss me to the side at the first chance to get his name out there."

"No, that's not what I was trying to... this is getting out of hand. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up. I'm clearly the wrong person to be having this discussion with you, given Kurt and my history. I was just... The musical is about a girl who gives up everything and regrets it in the end."

"So you're saying Kurt wants to win me back like Jenna wins Brian back?" Blaine says, this makes even less sense.

Kurt is the one who broke up with him. In the musical, Brian breaks up with Jenna. If Kurt regrets how things ended, he had every chance to change things. Every time they made up for a weekend only to break up again, Kurt could have fixed it then. But he didn't. And then Blaine found Jake. Blaine had a family. A family that made him happier than he's ever been; Kurt doesn't get to have him now. Not after everything that's happened. Friends, sure. Lovers? Never again.

"You have to admire the ingenuity. It was working," Rachel says with a wistful smile.

"No! It sure as hell wasn't working! I'm not looking for a relationship. I'm not _ever _going to be looking for a relationship. My soulmate—the man I vowed to spend the rest of forever with—died. He was brutally murdered. Why doesn't anyone get that the last thing on my mind is a boyfriend?"

He feels betrayed.

He knows he's probably overreacting. That if he just talked to Kurt, he would discover that it's all just a big misunderstanding. But he doesn't want to. Because what if it isn't? What if Rachel is right? He'll have lost his best friend again and he can't deal with another loss. Not when he hasn't healed from the last one.

Blaine ends up spending the night at Rachel's house. And the next night. And the following night. And pretty soon, Blaine's got a closet full of clothes and his own cereal in the pantry, unwilling to go back home to Kurt. Unable. He can't. Not until he knows if Rachel is right or not. And if she is, Kurt really did write a musical about them? Or even worse, if he was using his husband's death to win him back? Well, then Blaine's going to have to cut Kurt out of his life once and for all.

_Week 25_

It's twelve days later when Blaine finally feels calm enough to go back to Kurt's. Kurt was worried when he didn't return, but Blaine had texted him. Told him that Olivia just needed to be around two parents at the moment. He has a feeling that Kurt knows it was all a lie.

He's waiting for the discussion, practicing and re-practicing what he'll say in his mind so he's ready. Only, it doesn't come. Can't come, really. At night, Kurt's at the show, trying to make sure everything goes smoothly. Re-working parts that the audience doesn't react positively to, trying to get the musical to a point where it can move to Broadway.

During the day, it's hard. School is out for the summer, which means Blaine has Olivia twenty-four hours a day. She's become a bit of a mess now that she's got a walking cast and can move around without her walker. She's constantly into everything. Yesterday, when he was taking a shower, she left the apartment and traveled all the way to one of the rooftop terraces by herself. Blaine had driven himself crazy looking for her until Kurt got a call from the front desk stating that Olivia was safe and sound, playing with one of the maids. Her therapist says it's normal for her to act out but that doesn't make Blaine feel any better.

Needless to say, there is never any time for him to discuss things with Kurt. Blaine's starting to wonder why they even have to. If he continues to avoid the problem, he can almost imagine that he made the entire thing up in his head. Kurt doesn't do anything to make Blaine believe he didn't. He's his usual friendly self, always going out of his way to lend a helping hand with Olivia. He stays home one night to help Blaine when she's having a particularly bad day, which shows him that he's willing to put people before his career. But he's never overly affectionate. His gaze never lingers for too long. He never acts like he wants to be more than friends.

So Blaine ignores it. Almost forgets the whole thing ever happened. Almost.

_29 Weeks_

For Olivia's fifth birthday, she decides that she wants to have a princess tea party on the terrace of Kurt's building. Blaine's got to admire her taste. It's the perfect location. With an impressive view of midtown and comfortable but chic furniture, it's hard not feeling like New York royalty up there. She has grand dreams of inviting about half of New York City, but Blaine gets her to settle on a list of twelve classmates plus all of their families. His mother, Cooper and Harmony take a long weekend trip up to celebrate the occasion.

Birthdays have always been an event in the Anderson household. It feels weird to be planning a party without Jake, but for the first time in a long time, that thought doesn't reduce him to tears. It simply tugs at his heart a bit and causes him to lose himself to his thoughts during one sunset the night before the big day.

His baby girl is growing up so fast. He can still remember the day they took her home from the hospital. How scared Jake had been to hold her, afraid that he would drop her. How horrible Blaine had been at changing her diapers in the beginning. She gets bigger every day. It amazes him how quickly her vocabulary is developing. Kurt's started correcting her grammar, insisting that she's smart enough to speak properly, and she's actually started to lose her lisp.

Jake would be proud. Blaine thinks that somewhere up there, he is. He's never believed in heaven before, but he believed in Jake. And now, well now he's positive that some way, somehow, he's still watching them from afar. Looking after them like he always has.

It's a comforting thought.

"I still love you," Blaine whispers, hoping that Jake can hear him. "We both still love you. I'm not going to let her forget."

Blaine sings quietly to himself. Sings their song. The one that had played on the radio their first time together. The one they had danced to at their wedding. The song he sings Olivia to sleep with every night.

"So turn right, into my arms. Turn right, you won't be alone. You might fall off this track sometimes. Hope to see you at the finish line."

It's not the happiest song. By most people's standards, it's rather sad. But it will always remind Blaine of how Jake came to him when he needed him most. When he was lost and broken, partying every night. It reminds him how Jake had waited patiently, stuck by him in the beginning when it seemed like he couldn't get anything right. To Blaine, it's the happiest song he knows.

"Hey," Kurt says, joining him out on the balcony. "Your family just took Olivia downstairs for some ice cream."

Blaine just nods, eyes not moving from their spot on the horizon. He's leaning against the clear railing that had freaked his mother out when she'd first seen it. Kurt hands him a glass of merlot before taking a seat at the patio table, watching the sunset with him in silence. It's completely dark, the almost full moon bright above them when he finally speaks up.

"Are you happy here?" Kurt asks, not accusing, but curious.

It surprises Blaine, though it shouldn't. He turns away from the railing to join Kurt at the patio table.

"Why do you ask?" he responds, not sure if he's ready to answer the original question or not. Is he happy here? Would he be happy anywhere? He doesn't think so, at least not yet. But maybe. He's getting to a place where he thinks he could be.

"I worry that you need more than I can give you," Kurt says, swirling the wine around in his glass, avoiding looking him in the eyes.

Blaine gives a humorless laugh. "I worry that I need more than _anybody_ can give me."

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?" Kurt asks.

"I know," he says.

"But you don't want to," Kurt states. It's not a question, but a fact. Like he's already convinced himself that Blaine will never talk to him.

That's when it clicks. This is the conversation. Almost a month after he expected it, this is the moment he should be confronting Kurt. Blaine doesn't know that he wants to. Doesn't know that it's the right time. Hell, it will probably never be the right time. Deep down, part of Blaine realizes that once they have this conversation, good or bad, that will be it. Everything will be out in the open and nothing will ever be the same.

This conversation could very well be their goodbye.

"I don't really know what to say," Blaine says, honestly.

"I find the truth is usually a good place to start," he says.

Blaine sits up, puts both elbows on the table and tries to rub the tension out of his face. Tries to psych himself up for this.

"Do you want me to start?" Kurt asks, sending him a sad smile.

Blaine nods. Maybe it will be easier to talk after Kurt lays it all out for him. Then again, maybe this isn't something that can ever be easy.

"I know you didn't stay with Rachel because of Olivia," Kurt says, his voice full of false confidence. "And I know that nobody approves of you staying here—"

"That's not true," he cuts in, though they both know it's a lie.

"If you're not happy here, you know that you're allowed to leave," Kurt says.

"I know that," he replies, his voice small.

"Alright," he says, placatingly. "I just want to make sure that you really do. I know you, and I know how hard it can be when you think you've let somebody down. You don't need to worry about me."

"I'm not," Blaine says quickly. Kurt's face falls, and he realizes that came out wrong. Harsher than he meant to. "I just mean, I know. I'm not doing that. Staying so I won't upset you."

This is all coming out wrong. He doesn't know why, he's usually good at honest conversations. As horrible as he is about repressing his feelings, he's still usually better at these things.

"Is it true?" he asks, finding his courage from deep within and bringing up what's really been bugging him since that week. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, he tells himself. The faster it's out there, the faster they can fix it. "Was all of this some elaborate plan to win me back?"

"What? Who told you that?" Kurt asks, completely blindsided

"Rachel," he says, daring him to deny it.

"Of course she did," Kurt says, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Don't do that," Blaine says. "Don't make this her fault, all she did was force me to acknowledge something we should have dealt with a long time ago."

"We agreed that we weren't going to have that conversation," Kurt says. "That first morning you were here."

"Yes, because I was too fragile to have it," Blaine says. "I'm not broken anymore. Well, I am, but not like I was before. I can handle it."

"Okay," he says, pouring them another very full glass of wine. They're both going to need it. "Then let's have the conversation."

"Why now?" Blaine asks, suddenly. He's been holding all these questions in for so long, and now he just wants to have the answers. He _needs_ the answers.

"What do you mean why now?" Kurt asks.

Blaine gives him an annoyed look. Is he really going to play dumb after he just promised to be honest?

"Look, I'm not trying to avoid the question," he says. He fidgets in his seat, and though Blaine can tell that he's uncomfortable, he can also see that he's being sincere. "I'm just not sure exactly what you're asking. Why did I decide to talk to you about this now?"

"Why are you helping me through this now, when you couldn't be bothered when we were actually dating?"

"That wasn't it," Kurt says. "It wasn't that I didn't care. I always cared. I just... I was in over my head. I had a very demanding internship for a very important man and everything with you was just too much."

Blaine snorts in disbelief. Of course it always came back to that stupid internship. The internship that was so important, helping Blaine deal with the loss of his father was just too much. What a great relationship the two of them shared. It's funny thinking back on it. They had been the couple everyone looked up to. The love that couldn't be shaken. Yet when Blaine needed him the most, when any boyfriend would have been there, even a horrible one, Kurt was nowhere to be found.

"When you lost your dad, it reminded me so much of my mom," Kurt says, maintaining eye contact with him, though Blaine knows how uncomfortable it makes him to appear so vulnerable.

"Except it wasn't, you never got along with your dad and then suddenly he was gone before you could ever fix things. And you were so broken, there was nothing I could do to get through to you. I tried, God did I ever try, but you kept pushing me away. Every time I tried to help you, you'd start a fight with me. And when the panic attacks started, it was too much."

Blaine remembers it all too clearly. Remembers the first time it had happened. The two of them had been window shopping on 5th Avenue, hand in hand, enjoying a rare coffee together when something reminded him of his dad. It was the smallest thing, so small, that Blaine doesn't even remember what it was now. But it had sent him spiraling out of control and caused Kurt to call 911. The hospital had informed him that it was simply an anxiety attack and there was nothing physically wrong with him. They had referred him to a psychologist but Blaine had never been comfortable talking to people about his problems, let alone strangers, so he refused to go no matter how much Kurt pushed the issue.

"I was so young," Kurt continues. "I had no idea how to handle that. I didn't know the first thing about helping you. It was terrifying. You can't have any idea how scary it is to watch the person you love hyperventilate and completely disconnect from reality. I thought you were going to die."

"Imagine how terrifying it was for me then," Blaine says. "Imagine how horrible it was to be so lost and to have the one person who always gave you strength gone? You were always working. You never came home and when you did you acted like I was a burden to you–"

"You weren't a burden," he cuts him off, places his hand on his arm to reassure him. "I just didn't know how to help you. I was in over my head. God, we were only kids, what did you expect? I fucked up. Sometimes, I fuck up. I'm not perfect."

"Nobody but _you_ ever said you had to be," he says, bitterly. Kurt's perfectionism had always caused them problems.

"I would tell you that I regret it," Kurt says. "I'd tell you that I was sorry. That we were both kids who had to deal with more than any kid should have to and I panicked. But I can't. Because when I broke up with you, I told you that you deserved somebody better, and you found somebody better. So to tell you that I'd take it all back, that would be incredibly selfish. Anybody could see how much Jake loved you and how much..."

Kurt has to pause as he chokes back tears. Blaine's barely containing his own as well. He feels raw. Like his skin's been peeled away and all the disgusting bits about himself have been exposed. "How much _better_ you were without me."

"Did you take Olivia and me in so that you could win me back?" Blaine asks, at once, hoping Kurt won't answer, but needing him to desperately.

"You know what, it's been a long night," Kurt says, standing up to go inside. "Why don't we finish this in the morning when we're both a little less emotional."

"Just answer the question. Do you still love me?"

Kurt freezes with his hand on the door. He stands there for several moments, starting to turn back around to Blaine before he changes his mind and goes back to the door. Eventually, he sits back down with a deep sigh, resolved to see this conversation through to the end. Blaine wonders if Kurt sees what he's seen from the beginning. That this is the last conversation they'll ever have.

"Those are two different questions," Kurt says, his voice tired. "If you're asking if I still love you, then the answer will always be yes. You've known that and you can't hold it against me now."

"Fine," Blaine says, knowing that he is right. He can't very well blame Kurt for still loving him if a part of Blaine has always belonged to Kurt. They were each other's first loves, it's normal for them to still care so deeply about each other.

Blaine holds his breath. He waits for Kurt's next question. The one that has to follow such a big admission. He knows Kurt is wondering if Blaine still loves him. It's only natural for him to want to know after Blaine's had him answer such an intimate question. Only the question never comes. He wonders if Kurt already knows the answer. Knows that the answer has always been yes, only not in the ways it's supposed to be. It's yes in all the painfully unresolved ways that probably come from such a one sided breakup.

He wonders when Kurt stopped feeling he had a right to ask that question. Or when he realized any answer Blaine gave would hurt all the same.

"Then tell me," Blaine speaks up when it becomes obvious that Kurt has no intention of saying anything. "Promise me that you didn't do all of this. Take me into your home, befriend my daughter, give up hard earned profits so that the news wouldn't run my story... tell me that you didn't do any of that to win me back."

"I didn't."

Blaine snorts.

"You wanted me to be honest and I am," he says. "Your husband died. I'm not heartless. When my dad lost my mom, it was eight years before he dated again. I understand grief. I was trying to help make things easier for you because I know how hard this must be. I wouldn't try and use what happened as some sort of seduction tool. That's crazy."

"So you think I'm crazy," Blaine says. He knows it childish, that Kurt is trying to tell him the truth and he should listen. But he can't help but feel bitter after all these years. It's too much to hear in one day and yet not enough.

"When you say things like that? Yeah, a little bit," Kurt says.

They sit in silence, both of them leaning back in their chairs, stubbornly refusing to start the conversation up again. A few minutes later, after they have both finished their third glass of merlot, his family returns with a very hyper Olivia.

"My birthday is tomorrow!" She runs out onto the balcony singing and doing a strange dance that is so bad that it's cute. "G'ama gaved me all of the ice cream."

"Grandma gave me ice cream," Kurt corrects out of habit, then shoots Blaine a sheepish look. He clearly doesn't know if it's alright to talk to Olivia when they are... what exactly are they doing? Are they fighting? If so, it's much more tame than when they used to fight. There is no yelling, no dramatic storming out.

"_Grandma_ gave me ice cream," Olivia repeats properly, beaming up at them both. She's far too young to recognize the tension between them, but Blaine can tell his mother sees it by the way she, Cooper and Harmony hastily say goodbye and promise to be back in time to set up for the party tomorrow.

"You, Littlebit, are getting a bath and then we're going to bed. It's past your bedtime," Blaine says, picking her up and swinging her above his head as she giggles uncontrollably.

"But I'm not tired," she says, still laughing as he drags her into the bathroom for a quick bath.

"Yes, but just think, when you wake up tomorrow, you'll be five years old!" Blaine says, giving her his biggest smile. He draws her a bath and lifts her into the tub carefully, still nervous about hurting her newly healed leg.

"Do you think that I'll get my Ariel doll for my birthday?" she asks, splashing around in the water.

"Oh, I don't know, have you been a good girl?" he asks, schooling his face to look serious.

"The bestest!" she shouts with a giggle.

He lets her continue to wonder, though he knows that there is a closet full of Ariel toys, dresses, and DVD's in his closet for her. He also knows that Rachel has gotten her an entire tea set of her own as well as a gift certificate to the Alice and Wonderland tea shop the two of them love going to together. His mother's gotten Olivia her first American Girl doll and Cooper has splurged on a fair number of accessories for it. Wes promised Blaine that he wouldn't try and pick out the gift after the matchbox car fiasco and that Charlotte would find something perfect for a five year old princess. He's pretty sure even Kurt has gotten her something, though he won't tell him what it is. She's going to be spoiled, but it's not every day that your baby turns five.

He smiles, listening as she babbles on and on about her party while he washes her hair. When she's finally clean, he pulls the drain on the tub and opens up a towel for her to climb into. Bath time has gotten much quicker since she's ditched the walking cast.

"Daddy?" she asks, leaning back into his arms as he gently dries her off.

"Yeah, Liv?"

"Do you think Papa will watch my party from heavens?" she asks, leaning her head far back enough to look him in the eyes.

"I think Papa's always watching you," he responds, kissing the top of her head. She still smells like the strawberry shampoo they started buying last year. He can't bring himself to change it, not when it reminds both of them of Jake so much.

"We should bring him cake. _Grandma_," she says the word carefully so she pronounces every syllable like she's been taught. When she says it correctly, she beams brighter, proud of herself. "She said that she would buy an ice cream cake. Papa liked the ice cream cake."

"He did." Blaine nods, pulling her night clothes off of the sink, where he's left them. She turns in his arms so that she's facing him, twirling one of his curls around her finger.

"We should bring him some," she says as he nudges her to step into her Little Mermaid nightgown.

"Sounds great," Blaine says. He hands her a toothbrush and waits patiently as she brushes her teeth.

"We'll go visit your Papa soon," he says once she's finished. "Only not tomorrow, because all of your friends are coming over. Maybe on Sunday, if it doesn't rain."

"I like that idea," she says, putting her arms around his neck and giving him a hug. He wraps his arms around her and stands up, carrying her into the third bedroom. They had cleaned it out in the last few weeks to make room for a small bed and dresser. Blaine finally admitted that it wasn't healthy for them to continue to share a bed and they've been weaning her into sleeping on her own. It's been a slow process, but she's finally starting to adjust.

"I'm tired now, Daddy," she says, yawning as he tucks her into bed.

"I thought so," he says, tickling her under her chin and causing her to giggle.

"No story, just song," she commands him, pulling down on his arm until he lies down next to her. "I want to sleep so it can be tomorrow."

Blaine sings to her and stays with her until he's absolutely certain she's sleeping. He takes a moment to really look at her. The way her light brown hair falls into her eyes as she snores lightly. The way her left hand is clutching onto Gator, still the best friend she could have after all these years. He can't believe that this is the last time she'll ever be four years old. Tomorrow she'll be five, and in August she'll start kindergarten. His baby girl isn't a baby anymore.

Eventually, he leaves the bedroom and closes the door behind him, careful to leave a crack so the hall light will shine through and she won't freak out if she wakes up in the middle of the night. Kurt has moved into the living room. He's sitting patiently on the couch, not even typing at his laptop or checking his phone. He's just waiting quietly for Blaine to finish so they can return to their earlier conversation.

"Listen, I promise you that I had no ulterior motive when I offered to help you," Kurt says as soon as Blaine settles into his chair.

"I believe you," Blaine says quietly.

"Okay, because having you stay here has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Watching you with Olivia, seeing you both struggle so much, it's painful. You were always the one I looked to for hope that a happy ending was possible. To see you lose your husband like that, in such a brutal way, it killed me. But I managed it because I knew that you needed me. I can't comfort you like Rachel and Wes. I can't love you like Jake did or make you smile like Olivia. But I can help you in a way nobody else can. I haven't busted my ass and ruined every relationship I've had for nothing, I have money and I know a lot of important people. So yes, I used my connections and money to try and fix the media circus that tried to consume you. But I didn't do it so I could win you back. I would never do that."

"Okay," Blaine says, holding his hands up so that Kurt will stop rambling. "I said that I believe you."

"Right," he says, nodding his head and biting his lower lip. "So where does that leave us?"

"Just answer one more question for me," he says. "Are you Jenna?"

"What?" Kurt asks, looking at him curiously. It's clearly not what he had been expecting.

"In _Breakaway,_ are you Jenna and am I Brian?"

"No," he answers.

Blaine raises his eyebrows at him in disbelief.

"Not exactly. I mean, I put a lot of myself into Jenna. Every writer puts part of themselves into their characters. But you're not Brian. I would never want you to be Brian."

"What does that mean?" Blaine asks, unsure if that is an insult or not.

"Jenna is consumed by passion. For a while it was Brian, but then it wasn't. She messed up and didn't know how to fix it so she found a new passion. Threw herself into this crazy dream of opening her own restaurant. So yeah, I guess that's me to a degree. But you're not Brian, I certainly hope you aren't. Brian deserved somebody that wasn't Jenna. He didn't see it that way, he forgave her in the end and they worked it out. But he would have been so much better off if he had found his own Jake."

"So Brian's gay?" Blaine teases, not ready to think too hard about what Kurt's saying.

"Shut up," Kurt laughs quietly. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Blaine says. "I'm not sure if I agree, but I know what you're saying."

And he does see it. He sees everything much more clearly than he ever has before.

"I wrote that musical to fit the music, I didn't write it to tell some fantasy that I've been holding onto," Kurt says.

Blaine's not so sure that's exactly it, but he's starting to realize that as far as Kurt's aware, it is. If he's been using his musicals as therapy, to play out the past in some way, he never saw it like that. It still doesn't explain or excuse _Above All Else_, but maybe it doesn't have to. It's been nine years since then and Kurt's already admitted that he's made his fair share of mistakes. Maybe it's time to move past that.

Isn't that how Brian's number goes?

_We were just a couple of kids, trying to figure out how to live, doing it our way. No shame, no blame cause the damage is done and I forgive you._

"So in your mind, Jenna didn't deserve Brian's forgiveness?" Blaine asks, hoping to see more into how Kurt's head works, though after tonight, he's pretty sure he's got a clear picture.

"No, not really. But Brian refused to see it that way, and as a writer, you've got to be true to your characters. Every time I tried to write it another way, it just didn't sit right. So I changed the ending and added 'I Forgive You' in."

"Have you ever wondered what it was about those songs that caused you to write them into a musical?" Blaine asks, knowing the answer, but curious if Kurt does.

"I'm not sure, they've just always stuck with me. I figured they'd make a good show."

Blaine nods, but doesn't say anything. It's late and they have Olivia's party to get ready for. Besides, even if he did say something, Kurt would just deny it. It's going to be something he needs to figure out on his own.

Sometimes, even though you can see your friends' issues and want to fix things for them, you can't. It's something Blaine's learned from this whole experience. He knows that it's killed his family to sit by and watch him struggle on his own, refusing their help, but it's what he needed most. No matter how many times they tried to get him to move out and find his own place, he was never going to listen until he was ready.

Kurt will figure it out when he's ready. And maybe when he does, Blaine will be ready, too. But he knows one thing for sure, they aren't going to get there if he continues to stay here. He won't bring it up. Not until after this weekend is over and his family goes back home. But after... afterwards he'll tell Kurt that it's time that he found his own place.


	8. Months pt 1

_8 Months_

Two weeks after Blaine and Olivia move into their own apartment and one week after the governor of Ohio signs "Jake's Law"—the amendment that makes crimes against sexual orientation a law—Blaine finds himself back in the courtroom. He's not alone this time. Cooper and Rachel are with him, as well as Jane.

He'd had the option of staying home. With a single phone call, Jane could have read his written statement for the court. But he knows it's important that he be here today. He knows this will be his last chance to get a say in the case. After the way he panicked on the witness stand he's certainly nervous, but he feels the need to redeem himself. Prove to everyone and to himself that he is stronger than this. He knows that if he can just get through today, that the worst will have been behind him.

And he's not alone. Cooper and Rachel will have a chance to speak up as well. They'll be allowed to tell their story, help Blaine tell the judge just how much his life has been changed by a complete stranger's actions. He's grateful. If he had to do this alone, he knows there's so much that would get left unsaid. So much that he wouldn't be able to put into words. Cooper and Rachel were Jake's family, too. Jane had asked if it was worth calling Jake's parents. Blaine had laughed.

"Are there any statements from Defense Counsel before we do the victim impact statements?" the judge asks.

"Your Honor, we agree with the states that it is important that the members of the victim's family be able to speak at this time. We have no objection," Mr. Jetter says.

Blaine wants to snort at the complete change in tone. Ever since the verdict has been handed down and Peterson was declared guilty, Jetter has been kissing the judge's ass. Jane's told him that it's because he's trying to win the courts favor since they'll be likely asking for an appeal.

"Okay," the judge says calmly. Blaine likes the man. He's older, probably in his sixties, and has a soothing tone while still appearing completely in charge. He especially likes how understanding he was with the whole leaving the witness stand hyperventilating thing. That had certainly put him on Blaine's good side. He can't imagine how painful it would have been if they had to schedule a re-trial after that and start the entire process all over again. "So what we will do is take the victim impact statements and then we will come back to our defendant and find out anything he has to say and then we will do the sentencing. We all agree with that?"

"That's fine, Your Honor," Mr. Lee, the prosecution's lawyer says. He's not Blaine's favorite person in the world. Not since he yelled at him through the bathroom door. But he did his job. He got a guilty conviction despite all of Jetter's nasty tricks, so that makes him alright in Blaine's book.

"We will start with the victim impact statements," the judge says.

Blaine squeezes Rachel's hand hard. This is it. This is the moment he's been looking forward to and dreading for the past few months. The air in the room suddenly feels too hot. He closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe. Deep breaths in and out, just like Jake always taught him to do when he felt like he was about to panic. He doesn't have to go first. It's not even his turn yet; he needs to calm down.

"The first victim impact statement will be from Cooper Anderson, brother to Blaine Anderson and brother-in-law to Jake Anderson," Mr. Lee says.

Blaine sends Cooper a reassuring smile, even though he feels like he's going to be sick. Cooper doesn't need his reassurance though. He loves a captive audience; an opportunity like this has got to be crack to his brother, who hasn't done more than teach an acting class in years.

"Thank you," Cooper says, shooting everyone a winning smile. Blaine has to roll his eyes good-naturedly. He's read Cooper's statement already. Demanded it the second his brother said he'd like to speak at the trial. He knows that it's going to be appropriate, but he can't help but cringe inside. If he goes off book, it's going to be ugly.

"I was with my baby brother on the day he broke his arm for the first time. We were both ice skating over Christmas break and some punk just knocked him over like it was nothing. Blaine was only seven, but still, he never cried. I was in the hospital with him again when he was attacked after a school dance for daring to bring a boy as his date. Hell, this is the kid that was blinded by a rock-salt slushie his junior year of high school and the most he did was sing a sad song about it. Blaine's had to deal with a lot, but he's braver than most. Stronger. Better than any one person has a right to be."

Blaine smiles a bit at that. He's still never gotten used to Cooper complementing him. Though it's been years since they've resolved their tension and actually started acting like real brothers again, it's still rare for Cooper to outwardly say something so nice about it. Part of him, the insecure part, wants to think it's all a big act for the courtroom. But he knows Cooper better than that. He trusts that every word he's saying is the truth, even without the threat of perjury hanging over his brother's head.

"Eight months ago, I got a phone call that Blaine was in the hospital again. It was Thanksgiving Day, I was helping my mother make stuffing. Blaine and his husband had taken their daughter, my beautiful niece, to the park. When the call came in, I assumed there was a simple accident. Olivia had fallen down and scraped a knee. Jake and Blaine were known for taking her to the pediatrician when she got so much as a paper cut."

Rachel squeezes his arm at this and they share a smile. She wraps her hands around his arm and leans her head on his shoulder, reminding him that she's there. Probably reminding herself that he's still there, too. He knows it's something his family thinks about. How easily they could have lost more than just Jake.

"They were overprotective," Cooper continues with a charming smile. "I've never seen anyone love a little girl so much. Hell, I've never known anyone to love their spouse that much. They were embarrassingly in love. The kind of love that gets made into a Nicholas Sparks movie. But that was fine, because Blaine deserved it after all the hate he experienced growing up gay in Ohio."

Blaine watches as Cooper's smile drops and he actually seems to forget his words. He pauses for a very long minute, collecting himself. He's surprised; he's never known anything to shake Cooper during the middle of a performance.

"When I found out that they weren't in the hospital for a scrape to the knee, it was a lot to take in. Blaine and Jake were the guys that everyone looked to to show us how love was supposed to be. To watch their perfect life crumble, to not be able to do anything about it? Well, it sucked. It blew big time. I was supposed to be his big brother, I was supposed to fix things for him. For both of them, Jake had become my family, too."

At this, Cooper actually begins to cry, his voice catching. Rachel lets go of Blaine and stands up to put her arm around Cooper and whisper something in his ear. Whatever she says, it helps, because Cooper nods and wipes his eyes, continuing on, his voice stronger than before. She remains standing, a steady hand on his back.

"Jake died a few days after he was brought to the hospital. They said that the trauma to his head was too much to ever recover from. I watched as Blaine had to make the heartbreaking decision to cut off life support. I held my niece as she cried. Jake's gone for good and that's a shame. He brought out the best in people. He helped me move on from my first divorce and meet my wife. He taught Blaine to love with his whole heart. He gave us Olivia, who is the most amazing little girl anybody could ever know. Jake's never going to see her grow up and you did that."

Cooper's voice is raised as he points to Martin Peterson, only it's not for dramatic impact or any of the other bullshit lines he gives his acting students. There's a vein in his neck that looks about ready to pop and Blaine suddenly sees where he's probably gotten some of his temper from.

"Afterwards, Blaine and Olivia were left with nowhere to go. They couldn't stay in Ohio when they had been driven out by hate and they couldn't return to their apartment in New York. Even if that apartment wasn't drowning in memories, it wasn't safe anymore. The attack made national news. His telephone never stopped ringing. Reporters and protestors flooded the streets of his neighborhood. As somebody who is intimately aware of the price of fame and celebrity, what happened to those two in the wake of such a horrible tragedy is a shame. They never asked to be famous. They never asked for their picture to be on every magazine and newspaper stand in the country. You did that to them. You made their life a living hell. Even now, when they leave this courtroom, they'll never be able to walk down the street without people whispering about them. He'll always be asked for interviews, expected to support this or that cause. Neither of them will be able to live an anonymous life again.

"Blaine's always been so strong, invincible. I know most people assume that I'm the hero of the family, what with the dashingly good looks of a Disney prince and the incredible acting talent, but Blaine was always the real hero. That Blaine is gone, he's different now. The day he lost his husband, he changed. I hope that one day, he'll heal from this. That he'll be able to move past this. Because if you've managed to take _two_ brothers away from me? Managed to take _two_ of the best fathers in the world away from my niece? Well then you'd better hope they never let you out of that jail cell. You'd better pray you rot in there until you die."

Cooper finishes his statement and Blaine stands to pull him into a hug. They both cling to each other hard enough to leave bruises but it doesn't matter. Simply knowing how much his brother cares, that he's got somebody like Cooper in his corner is the best feeling.

"Thank you," Blaine whispers into his neck.

Cooper just nods and pulls Blaine back down into his seat, never letting his arm leave its spot around his shoulder. Mr. Lee is standing again, waiting patiently for them to be ready to continue on. When they finally settle back in, he gives them both a proud smile. He's clearly happy with Cooper's performance.

"We have Rachel Berry, who will be speaking on behalf of her daughter, Olivia Anderson," he says before sitting back down in his seat.

Rachel stands up and walks over to the microphone, smoothing out invisible creases in her dress, nervously. He's never known her to have stage fright before, but then again, this isn't really the audience she's used to playing to.

"Last week, Blaine and I sat Olivia down and told her that she would be staying with me for a few days while Blaine came to Ohio. When she asked why, Blaine explained that he was going to talk to the judge about how much he missed Jake. And when Olivia heard that he was going to get a chance to talk to _you_," Rachel says, looking at Martin Peterson with a look of pure disgust. "Well, she insisted that she get her say as well."

Blaine smiles a bit, thinking back to the week before. To the look of pure determination Olivia had worn. It had reminded him so much of Rachel. Olivia somehow managed to be the best parts of all of them. Strong, courageous and so much more fearless than he could hope of being.

"Olivia couldn't come today, she's in New York with her grandmother. For starters, it would have been far too traumatic for her to have to look you in the eyes. She wouldn't be able to handle seeing the man that murdered her father. She's only just turned five years old. She still wakes up with nightmares, images of her father being beaten with a metal bat."

Rachel pauses for dramatic impact, he knows this, because he's heard her practicing this speech at least eighteen different ways into the mirror last night.

"For another thing, she can't really afford to miss physical therapy. She shattered her leg on that day. The doctor didn't know if she would ever be able to walk properly again. After her surgery, it took much longer for her to walk with a walker than it was supposed to. There were talks of more surgeries and what the options were if the bones never healed correctly. But our little Liv is strong, like her dads. She's finally got her cast off. She still can't participate in sports, she can't really run that great, but she's walking."

Cooper squeezes his shoulder, giving him a loving smile. Blaine's about to question him, what it's for but he just shakes his head and turns back to Rachel. He sees his brother conspicuously try to wipe a tear from his eye.

"What happened to Olivia was an accident," Rachel says, her voice going soft for moment. He knows that she's picturing Riley Peterson. They often do. The two of them have had this conversation before. They've discussed how badly they feel for the boy who could never have realized how quickly his one little action could change so much.

"Your son isn't a hateful person, he was just mimicking the behavior that he learned from you. He couldn't possibly have known what he was doing when he pushed her off that slide. _You_ did. You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked up that bat. You didn't care."

She throws her arms out to the side and yells the last line. He knows, growing up in Ohio with two gay dads, Rachel has dealt with her share of homophobia in her life. How closely she can identify with Olivia. He also knows that she's never had to witness any outright violence against either of them and how frustrated she is that they could live in Ohio their whole lives and never get attacked, yet all it took for Blaine to lose his husband was a weekend trip back.

"Olivia wanted to be here, but we wouldn't allow it. I promised her though, that I would make sure her words were heard. At five years old, she's a pretty amazing kid. This is what she had to say."

Rachel walks over to where there is a computer set up to a projection screen. She plugs her phone into the computer and pulls up a video that she'd recorded last week. The lights in the courtroom are dimmed as Olivia's face fills the screen. She's wearing a pink dress, one that Jake got her that barely fits anymore, and she's clutching onto Gator nervously. Though she's comfortable around Rachel, Blaine knows the thought of strangers seeing the video they are making has to be making her shy.

"Tell me about your Papa," Rachel can be heard saying off camera.

"My papa was the best papa," she says, her whole face lighting up at the thought of Jake. Suddenly, she's not shy anymore. The camera follows Olivia as she runs into her bedroom to pull a DVD off of her shelf.

"He knew all of the words for Lion King, even talking parts! He had a biggest smile every morning. He gived me this dress," she says holding the skirt out and giving a twirl. "It's my fav'ite one. His kisses made my boo-boos better. He made macaroonies and cheeses when daddy can't make toast. He knew how to love people 'till they felt warm in their tummy. Even if I live to be 190, I'll still remember Papa."

He's impressed with how much she's saying, how clear her voice sounds. He didn't realize that Rachel had gotten her to say so much. She hadn't shown him the video, just told him to worry about his statement and she would make sure everything else was taken care of. He's torn between feeling incredibly proud of her and immensely sad to hear her talk about all that she's lost.

"Can you tell me how you feel about Riley and Mr. Peterson?" Rachel asks again, prompting her once she's fallen into silence. Olivia pauses and studies the camera, putting a finger to her chin to show that she's thinking of a good answer.

"I wish Riley had a papa like mine," she says quietly. The camera leans in closely to catch every word she's saying now that she's not shouting excitedly.

"Then he wouldn't of pushed me down the slide. And my papa would be here. Ms. Michelle says we're 'apposed to forgive people when they do bad things, so I forgive Mr. Peterson. But I'm still sad. I hope he will forgive my daddy and papa for what they did to make him mad. It's not their fault that they love each other so much."

The screen goes black and Blaine has to bury his face into Cooper's chest to keep from crying aloud. How was he supposed to do this, how was he supposed to follow that when all he really wants to do is go home and never let Olivia out of his sight again. He's not sure how she's gotten to be so strong in these past few months. She couldn't have learned it from him. He's such a mess.

"Prosecution," the judge can be heard, signaling Mr. Lee to continue on with the proceedings. Blaine looks up, knowing it's his turn. He takes a soothing breath. If Olivia can do it, so can he.

"Last, we have Blaine Anderson, victim and husband of Jake Anderson," Mr. Lee says, though is voice is suspiciously tight.

Blaine stands up and his knees immediately buckle, Cooper grabs him and walks him to the microphone. Rachel stands on his other side, holding onto his hand tightly. He's not alone, he reminds himself. They aren't going to get him fall.

Cooper takes the statement that Blaine has written up and places it on the podium in front of him.

"You can do this," Cooper whispers. "You're stronger than you believe."

Blaine nods and turns to stare at the paper in front of him. The words have been engraved into his memory after reading them so many times, but he doesn't think he can look up at anyone else at the moment. He continues to hold onto Rachel's hand as he leans his weight on his brother. When his voice catches on the first word, he clears his throat and stands up taller.

He can do this. He lets go of Rachel's hand, forcing himself to stand on his own. He's not going to let this break him. He's going to do this and he's going to be strong like they say he can be. Though he's got a new resolve, he's happy when neither of them take their seats again, and instead just stand patiently by his side.

"I met Jake in May of 2016. When we met, I was a mess. I could barely get through a week without an emotional breakdown. I had lost my father that year and wasn't handling it well. Jake came in a changed that. He worked at the school clinic studying to be a psychiatrist. I think he saw me as a project, somebody to fix. I don't know what would have happened to me if I didn't meet him," Blaine's surprised by how steady his voice is. Maybe Cooper is right.

"Jake was warm, funny, stunningly handsome yet completely unaware of it, he was perfect. Everything I ever wanted," he says, smiling at the image of Jake in his head. "I helped him come out of the closet to his parents and it was in that moment, when I saw how strong he was, that I realized I was in love. They didn't approve. They didn't think homosexuality was real. Unfortunately, it's a popular opinion," he says, looking up from his paper to really look at Martin Peterson for the first time.

"As a couple, we were used to the hate that got directed our way," he continues, his eyes glued to the man that did this to them. Wanting to make sure he heard every word.

"It didn't bring us down. Nothing could bring us down so long as we had each other to hold on to, not until that day," he pauses, waiting for his mind to stir up images of Jake lying bleeding on the asphalt, but it never comes.

"When you took Jake away from me... it was a shock. That somebody would want to hurt us for being in love, that wasn't surprising. It was surprising that you actually managed to tear us apart. You did what I had always assumed was impossible. I lost the love of my life that day and the only thing I could think was that it should have been me. Jake would have been able to do this better than me. He was always stronger, always knew the right thing to say. If he were standing here today, I guarantee his statement would be far more eloquent than mine. But he's not here. He's gone forever and I don't think I'll ever fully get over that.

"Jake taught me to be a better man. He gave me a reason to dream again, to live. With him around things were just better. You can ask anyone and they'd tell you the same. When I think of all that I lost that day, it's crushing. But when I think of all the people out there, the ones that will never get to meet Jake? The patients he'll never have, all the people who won't be able to be brought back to life with his contagious smile? I think that hurts even more. When I watch Olivia wake up and call out for her Papa? That's when I feel the most alone."

There's more written down on his paper. There's an entire speech that demands this man pay for what he did to them with his life, but he can't bring himself to say it. Olivia's small voice is in the back of his mind asking for forgiveness.

"I can't do this," Blaine says, crumpling up the piece of paper in front of him. Cooper immediately swoops in, ready to take charge, only Blaine isn't falling apart. He's found his strength. The second he realizes what he needs to do, the knot in his stomach lifts. He can feel Jake's presence around him, knows it's what his husband would do. He knows this is the only thing he _can_ do and still be able to look anyone in the eye.

"I came here today to ask for the death penalty," he says, glancing at the judge, wondering if they'll cut him off for not sticking to the approved statement.

"There hasn't been a single day since the attack that I didn't picture you strapped to an electric chair," he says, turning to look Martin Peterson in the eyes. To really see the man before him for the first time. Not with the hate he's always seen him with before, but through a new set of eyes. He looks at him with pity. How sad it must be to live a life when you don't understand love.

"There wasn't a day where the thought of you suffering, the thought of you experiencing a _fraction_ of the pain you put my Jake through, that that thought didn't make me feel better..."

Blaine pauses as Rachel tugs on his hand. He turns to look at her, let her see that he is alright. That he's not having a breakdown. He shakes his head at her, silently tell her to let him do this.

"But Jake isn't coming back. And I can't help but look over at little Riley Peterson and think, what happens when he wakes up crying like my Olivia so often does? What happens when he cries out for his father only to realize that he's dead? I've been trying to fight hate with hate and that's not going to change the world. Jake? He wanted to change the world," he says with a fond smile.

"He wanted to fill it with love and he did a damn good job of it. While I don't know if I'm ever going to be as compassionate as my husband, I'm going to go ahead and say I probably won't be. I think I owe it to him to try. And I think we all owe it to your family—who have been so courageous—who tore their world apart to help us... we owe it to _them_ to be compassionate as well. Because Olivia, Jake and I, we aren't the only victims here. They are too."

"So, that's it," he says, holding his hands up. "That's all I have to say. Jake was an incredible person and what happened to him was tragic. But I think the most important thing I've realized is that if you let your heart be filled with hate it does nothing but destroy you. I hope that one day I'll be able to forgive you for what you've done. I hope you'll feel remorse. That you'll realize how wrong you were. But that's not going to happen overnight. You deserve time to think about what you did. Time to discover the true meaning of love. And I can only hope that the court gives that to you. Hopefully a lifetime of it. Behind bars. Alone. To think."

Everyone is looking at him in surprise. He doesn't know if that is a bad thing or a good thing, but no matter what, at least he'll be able to leave the courtroom with his head held high knowing that he did the right thing. Knowing that he'll never have to explain to his daughter that he helped another child bury a father.

Cooper pulls him into a hug and he feels Rachel at his back holding onto both of them tightly.

"You did good, Squirt," Cooper says and he can feel Cooper's tears as they start to fall.

"Don't call me that," Blaine says, not knowing what else to say. This entire day is so far from what he's expected.

As he untangles himself from Cooper and Rachel, he realizes that the entire courtroom is dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. There are people crying, others are staring at him in surprise, but nobody is making a sound. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, waiting for something to happen. Wondering if he'll be in trouble. Can he be arrested for this? He remembers Jane going through a long list of instructions about what was wasn't allowed in the courtroom. He remembers her bringing up perjury and jail time if he lies, but he didn't say anything that wasn't true. He just... threw away the speech the court had approved him to say. He hoped they judge would understand. He'd been so understanding before.

"Is there anything else on behalf of the State?" the judge finally speaks up, looking away from Blaine and back to Mr. Lee.

"Nothing further. Thank you," he responds, clearly too thrown off to say more.

"Defense?" the judge says, his voice is different than it was before. He's speaking much quicker. Like he's eager to get this over with. Blaine hopes that doesn't mean he's in trouble.

"Nothing, Your Honor," Mr. Jetter says.

"Mr. Peterson, is there anything you have to say before the sentence is pronounced?"

Martin Peterson has tears in his eyes, he turns to make eye contact with his wife and son who are crying. He looks like he has a lot to say, but just shakes his head.

"Nothing further, Your Honor."

"Okay. Would the defendant please rise?"

Martin Peterson stands up and Blaine holds his breath. This is it... everything all boils down to this single moment.

"I have to admit, before today, I was torn over this decision," the judge says. "The jury in this case has, as you know, voted in favor of the death penalty. But after hearing our victim's statements, in particular, Mr. Anderson's plea that I decide against the death penalty. I have to say that I agree with Mr. Anderson."

Blaine doesn't hear much beyond this part. His mind gets stuck on _agree with Mr. Anderson_. He doesn't know how he's supposed to feel. They aren't going to impose the death penalty. Everything is over, he said his piece. He survived it without breaking down in another embarrassing panic and people had actually listened to him. He was heard. It was over. It was finally over.

There are other things said, words exchanged between the judge, the lawyers, and Martin Peterson. They all get lost to him. Rachel pulls him out of his chair and squeezes him tight, she's laughing and he's pretty sure she's finally cracked but he doesn't care. He thinks he might have cracked too because he can't stop smiling.

He's free. He's finally free of all of this shit that has bogged him down for so long. He never has to step foot in Ohio again if he doesn't want to. He can get on a plane, go back to his daughter, and continue on with his life like he always wanted to. Shit, he can go back to work!

He's pulled away from the endless line of congratulations by a small tugging at the sleeve of his sports coat. He's surprised to look down and see a puffy eyed Riley Peterson. Blaine leans in to tell Cooper that he's going to step out for a minute. He looks around for the boy's mom and when he locates her, he nods to the door. She waves them on, letting him know that it's alright. Blaine leads the boy out the doors, where it's slightly quieter, though not by much. The commotion from inside is deafening, he wonders if it seems that way to everybody or if it's just him.

"I'm so sorry," Riley cries as soon as Blaine kneels down to his level. He feels his heart break at the sight. He knows the weight of guilt he's been carrying around for months, can only imagine how much stronger it must be for Riley. He hopes he hasn't been watching TV. Prays that he hasn't heard any of the reporters casually talk about how none of this would have happened if Riley hadn't pushed Olivia. He's only eight, after all.

"It's alright," Blaine says softly. "It's alright."

"But your daughter..." he sobs.

"She's fine," Blaine says, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder. "You saw her on that tape. Perfectly healthy."

"I shouldn't have pushed her," he says.

"No, you shouldn't have," Blaine responds, his voice tight. He never imagined that he'd have to have this conversation. He'd thought about what he might say to Mrs. Peterson, but never did he think he'd speak with Riley.

"But you won't do it again. You don't need to be upset about it anymore."

"You're nice," he says wiping his nose on his sleeve. "My daddy said gay people weren't nice."

"Well." Blaine shrugs, not really sure how to respond to that.

"My mommy said that he was wrong about some things. I think she's right. I'm sorry about your husband."

"Me, too," Blaine says.

"And thank you. You didn't have to tell the judge to be nice to my dad. I know he's a jerk."

Blaine snorts, jerk is putting it mildly, but he supposes at eight years old, it's probably the worst insult he knows.

"No, I didn't. But you didn't have to tell your mom about what happened in the park that day either. I guess we both have something to be thankful for."

Blaine pulls Riley into a hug because it looks like he needs it. He wonders how is life is going to be now that his dad is in jail. He hopes that the thought of being able to visit him at least gets him through. He knows the difference between a life in jail and death probably isn't a lot, either way the boy is going to grow up without a father, but he hopes it's something.

Blaine stands up and waits patiently until Riley has cleaned himself up a bit, then he walks them both back into the courtroom and over to his mom.

"Thank you," Blaine says with a shaky voice once they reach her.

"You don't owe us anything," she says. "I'm sorry about what happened."

Blaine just nods, because there's nothing really there to say. She's heard his statement. Heard his thoughts on the matter. The two stare at each other for a few more moments before she pulls at Riley's hand.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's leave Mr. Anderson to his family," she says and they walk away. Out of Blaine's life forever.

"We should call Mom," Cooper says, coming up behind him and clapping him on the shoulder. "She's going to want to hear the details from us before they appear on the front page of the Times."

"Oh God, all that stuff we said, it's all going to be public record," Blaine groans.

"And everyone will know what a wonderful man you are, that Jake was," Rachel says, joining the two of them. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. Who knows, maybe you're little speech will inspire somebody."

"What? To jump off of a cliff?" Cooper jokes. "Seriously Blaine, you couldn't have put a single joke in there? You had everybody crying like pathetic losers. Most depressing thing I've ever seen."

"I supposed I should have pointed some, made it more ridiculous?" Blaine says, glad to have something to laugh about. His brain can't handle serious anymore.

"Made it more inspiring and dramatic, you mean?" Cooper laughs. "How many master classes are you going to have to sit through before it sinks in with you?"

"Dear God, please, don't make me sit through another one," Blaine says, rolling his eyes.

With a final thank you to Jane and promises to check back in with her from time to time, the three of them make their way outside and through the hoards of journalists quickly. They all want a statement from him, but he refuses. They'll have more than enough to write about once the court documents become public. In fact, he's pretty sure the court video will be viral by the end of the week. He doesn't owe them anything else.

A few hours later, Rachel and he are both at the airport bar, waiting for an available flight back to New York. They're forced to fly standby since their original tickets wouldn't put them home for another three days. The case was supposed to take longer than it did, but he's glad it finished early for a change. The thought of staying here another day makes him want to be sick.

"Oh my God, they have karaoke," Rachel says, moving to grab his hand but missing and knocking over his empty beer bottle.

"No." He snorts, shooting her down before she can even get the question out.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink if you do," she says.

"You've already bought me three beers. And a White Russian. As well as more shots than I can remember. If I have anymore they aren't going to let us on the plane," he points out.

"Oh come on, this is the perfect way to celebrate," she says, pouting a bit. "How will you _survive_ if you don't express your relief in song."

Somehow, he always forgets how much more dramatic she becomes when she drinks.

"I think I'll manage," he says with an easy laugh. The two of them have been here for a few hours and are drunk on a mix of minimal sleep, intense joy and vodka. A hell of a lot of vodka.

"I'll let you pick the song," she says in a sing song voice.

"Really?" he asks, considering her offer. He never gets to pick the song.

"Well I have veto power if it's not in my range, but sure. It's your day, why not?" she says.

And that's how Blaine spends his first night as a free man, by making an ass out of himself at an airport bar with his best friend. Actually, he doesn't really make as big an ass out of himself as he thought he might. The two of them end up making close to a hundred dollars in tips from the bored passengers that are grateful for something to do while they wait for their delayed flights.

Around midnight, they get called for a flight back home. A red-eye with more than enough empty seats to accommodate them. In fact, they get an entire row to themselves. Rachel spreads out with her head in his lap as he leans back with a blanket and pillow. It's one of the better days he's had since Jake's been gone. And this is probably the alcohol talking, but he thinks it's only going to get better from here.


	9. Months pt 2

_9 Months_

Blaine hasn't seen Kurt since he moved out seven weeks ago. It isn't that they've been avoiding each other, at least, Blaine hopes not. It's just that between unpacking their apartment by himself, the trial, and getting ready to return back to work next week, they've been busy. And Kurt's had an extremely successful show to work on. Time's just slipped past them.

But it's Kurt's birthday. There's a fancy party tonight at a swanky club in Manhattan, but Olivia and Blaine are going to be celebrating the day over lunch instead. Olivia had practically demanded it. She'd seen the invitation Kurt mailed him on their counter and cried when she found out that she wasn't allowed to go. When Blaine called to see if they could take Kurt to lunch instead, he hadn't hesitated before agreeing. According to Kurt, birthdays in the industry were just another way for people to network and get each other drunk so they could blackmail each other later. He claimed that lunch would be far more enjoyable and would give them time to catch up.

Blaine's doesn't think that there are any hard feelings about them moving out. Kurt hadn't seemed surprised when Blaine told him. He had seemed to expect it. He helped pack their things and had joked about how much more work he'd be able to get done when he wasn't constantly being lured into sing-a-longs. Hell, he'd even arranged the mover that got all their things from the old apartment out of storage and took it to the new place. Then again, if Kurt was upset, he wouldn't have said anything. And there had been one or two times that he'd caught him looking at them with a longing gaze. So, there's that.

But even so, they've been exchanging fairly regular texts. He likes to think that he knows Kurt well enough by now that he would have figured it out if he were hurt. So yes, he's pretty sure that they are alright, but that doesn't stop him from getting butterflies as they make their way off of the subway at towards Kurt's building.

"Do you think he'll like our present?" Olivia asks skipping at his side. She's anxious to run, now that her physical therapist has cleared her for more intense activity but there's no way he's letting her get ahead of him on such a busy street. He's always been pretty protective of her, but since he lost Jake he just can't... The thought of her getting hurt again, or even worse? It's too much.

"Of course he'll like his present," he responds, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Good," Olivia says. "He should get all of his wishes for his day."

"That's a really sweet thing to say."

"I know," she says, giving him the sassy look of _please Dad_ that she's been perfecting recently. "It's why everybody loves me."

Blaine can do nothing but laugh at that. The two of them round the corner and greet Frank, their favorite doorman, as they walk through the lobby and over to the elevators. The restaurant they are meeting at is on the third floor, part of the hotel that Kurt lives above. It's been their regular spot for months.

Blaine glances at his watch as they wait for the elevator. They are running late, but Blaine knows that Kurt can't be expecting them to show up on time. While Blaine had once been an incredibly punctual guy, getting anywhere with a five year old is impossible.

"Kurt!" Olivia yells, running at him as soon as Blaine pulls open the restaurant's door and she spots him at their usual table. Kurt stands up to greet them.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" he asks, teasing her.

"Olivia," she says with a frown, putting both hands on her hips.

"No, that can't be. The Olivia I know is a little girl," he says.

"It's me silly!" she says giggling. "And that's Daddy!" She points at Blaine who is just now approaching their table, having not taken off at lightning speed immediately upon entering.

"Ah, you're right," Kurt laughs and pulls her in for a hug. "How silly of me, there's no way I could forget two such beautiful faces."

He sends Blaine a sly look that does something to his stomach he doesn't quite know what to do with.

"It's okay," she says matter of fact-ly. "I've grown two shoes since I turned 5. Daddy thinks I'm gonna be a giant, but I told him I'm just going to be normal size people."

Blaine had been worried that she might be hesitant when they first got there since it had been so long, but watching her flail her arms around as she speaks dramatically, it appears the only hesitant one is himself.

"Is that so?" He chuckles. "Well your father wouldn't know much about that."

"Watch it," Blaine says with a tentative laugh. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," Kurt says, looking up at him through the tops of his lashes. He's got a slight blush, one that he hasn't seen in years and it's the realization that Kurt's nervous, too that puts him at ease.

"It's good to see you," he says, leaning in to knock their shoulders together lightly.

Before Kurt can comment, Olivia is pushing Kurt back into his chair and climbing on his lap, chatting away a mile a minute.

"I start kindergarten on Monday," she says, swinging her legs back and forth. Blaine's happy to see she actually says this with excitement. She hasn't been looking forward to starting school again.

"You'll blow all the other kids out of the water with your genius in no time," Kurt says, wrapping a comfortable arm around her waist.

Blaine not sure, but he swears he sees him smell her hair. He wonders if it's actually possible that Kurt's missed Olivia as well. He's always assumed that he just took Olivia as part of the package that came with Blaine. But the way the two are smiling at each other, he wonders if Kurt's actually come to love Olivia on her own merits.

"It doesn't matter how the other kids do," Blaine responds quickly, not letting himself think too much. This is supposed to be a fun day, no room for seriousness. There's been enough of that lately. "All that matters is we do our best. Right, Liv?"

"Okay," she says, rolling her eyes at him, tired with the speech she's heard enough already.

Kurt sends him a questioning glance.

"We might have had a meltdown at the library yesterday when we discovered that Ashley can read books that we can't," Blaine explains, well lies, really. Because there's no way that you can call what happened a meltdown.

It was full on, nuclear level explosion. There had been screaming, throwing of books and enough crying to fill the Hudson. Security had actually kicked them out. They were kicked out of a public library. It was mortifying and followed quickly by an emergency therapy session where her psychologist reminded him that these kinds of things were still common. Though Olivia may seem like she's past everything, there are going to be moments that her emotions are too strong and confusing to contain.

"She's in the two grade," she explains in a bored voice, parroting back what she's been told. "She's 'apposed to read better than me. I wasn't sad 'bout that."

"Is that so?" Blaine asks, curiously. Because up until a few minutes ago, that had been her continued complaint.

"Yes," she says and turns her back to him so she can face Kurt. Blaine knows that she's just upset with him for the moment. That part of being a single parent means that he's always going to have to be the disciplinarian. But it does make him a bit jealous to watch her chose Kurt over him.

"Ashley says the kids at my new schools are going to have moneys and be perfect," she explains sounding completely desperate.

"First of all, nobody is going to be more perfect than you," Kurt explains. "It's impossible. Second of all, money doesn't make you better or smarter. I should know—I have a lot of it. It's hardly the most important thing."

At this, Kurt looks up at Blaine and gives him a soft smile. The fluttering is there again. He's pretty sure he knows what it means, but he's confused. He's not sure if he's feeling this because he's finally around somebody that's treating Olivia like she's important and he's missed having a partner in all of this or if he's feeling this over _Kurt_. Because he can deal with either. At least, he thinks he can. But until he understands why his heart keeps jumping into his throat, he can't do anything without potentially ruining something good.

"Is not?" Olivia asks, playing with the eagle broach that Kurt is wearing.

"Nope," he says. "Just be yourself. Everyone will love you. And if they don't, well then you can grow up and write a song about how horrible they were and embarrass them for the rest of their life."

"Kurt," Blaine says, trying to chide him but unable to contain his laughter. So that meerkat song had been about Sebastian after all.

"So you decided to change her school?" Kurt asks.

When they first moved in with Kurt, he had suggested that he move Olivia into a more upscale private school, but Blaine hadn't been willing to change her normal routine at the time. Not when she was still so delicate. But with a few more months behind them and kindergarten about to start, he knew that it was the time to change. It would cost more, certainly, but the life insurance and victim's funds would cover that. What was important was that Olivia was safe and secure. Things had settled down since the trial, but there were still people taking their pictures.

"Yeah," he responds with an easy shrug. "It makes me nervous that everyone in this city knows who she is."

It's a constant worry of his. What will happen if a photographer becomes too interested in them? How this brush with celebrity will affect her daily life? Will he ever feel safe walking down the street with her again?

The waiter comes by and they order their meals. Cheese pizza for the little one and steaks for the two of them. Because, hey, it's Kurt's birthday and they don't actually have filling food at these club parties anyway. It's all gluten-free this, vegan inspired that and occasionally, when somebody is being really ostentatious, caviar. Kurt deserves to have something nice on his special day.

"She'll be alright," Kurt says, continuing their conversation after Olivia finishes her tale of Rainbow, the caterpillar they adopted that really did turn into a butterfly.

"I guess," he says, smiling at his little girl and running a hand through her hair. She's currently coloring a picture on a blank paper one of the hostesses managed to track down, this isn't exactly a restaurant prepared for children.

"Something bothering you?" he asks, leaning back with his lemonade, settling in for a more adult conversation now that Liv is distracted.

"Nothing," he says, dismissively. "Just Dad stuff. Nothing I need to put on you. It's your birthday. Let's talk about that."

"Let's not," Kurt says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I'm thirty-two. Do you know how old that makes me in this town?"

"Thirty-two?" Blaine teases.

"Gah, I wish," Kurt laughs. "I miss being a teenager. Do you remember high school? Things were so much better then."

"I think you and I remember very different schools," he says, but he knows what Kurt's getting at.

Those days had been traumatizing, sure. But at the same point, everything had been so much easier. They had groups of friends they could see every day between classes and at Glee practice. There wasn't need to schedule coffee breaks between meetings and ballet classes. Blaine can't even remember the last time he's seen Wes without Ashley and Olivia.

"Oh, I don't know, I remember things pretty clearly," he says with a significant look.

The two of them hold each other's gaze for several minutes and Blaine feels something stirring inside of him. Old memories are pushing at him, urging him to fall like he had all those years ago with _Blackbird_, _you move me_,_ I was so proud to be with you_, _I Have Nothing _and literally thousands of shared moments. But that's all they are doing, pushing. The emotions aren't flooding back in like they used to when he'd think of Kurt in the days following their breakup. It's more like a trickle. Drips and drops. It's manageable. Easy to ignore if he doesn't think he can handle it, but there if he wants it. It's always going to be there.

The two of them are finally broken apart by the sound Kurt's phone going off, alerting him that he's got a new text message. He pulls away and shakes his head, making Blaine wonder what exactly is going on in Kurt's head. What was he thinking just then? Was he lost in memories too? Were they pushing at him gently or holding him to the ground and suffocating him? Was he even thinking anything at all?

Kurt glances at his phone and rolls his eyes at whatever message he's been left, chuckling quietly to himself.

"Somebody special?" Blaine asks. He's not fishing, he tells himself. Kurt is allowed to text whoever he wants and it's none of his business. Only the thought of Kurt texting another man puts him on edge in a way that it shouldn't. Not when he's not even sure what he's feeling. Not when he's not sure about anything in his life.

"Not really," Kurt says, sending out a quick text before turning off his phone and pocketing it. "Neil is trying to hook me up with this director and refuses to believe that we've already..." he pauses, glancing up at Blaine with a slight blush.

It's moments like this that tell Blaine they aren't friends. Friends don't have a problem talking about their past relationships. Friends don't tip-toe around these conversations scared of hurting each other.

"Enjoyed each other's company?" Blaine chuckles, wanting to say more, something more vulgar, but his vocabulary's had to be cleaned up in recent years thanks to Liv.

"It was underwhelming to say the least," Kurt says. "If that's all that people have planned for my birthday I'm going to have to rethink telling you not to come."

"You don't need this buzzkill there," he says. "I'm sure that guy's far more entertaining than I'd be. I'm a dad now, a crazy night for me is when I wait to change into my pajama's until _after_ dinner."

"Oh I don't know, I think you've still got it in you," Kurt says with a wink.

And what does _that_ even mean? Is this just harmless flirting, because they've both always enjoyed a good banter? Or is this more? It's been so long since he's had to play this game with anyone he doesn't know if he can read signals anymore. Have they changed? How do people flirt nowadays? He doesn't have many single friends, and the ones he does have just go for hookups in bars. He's not really familiar with how to date anymore.

God is he getting ahead of himself. Does he even want to date Kurt? Would Kurt even want to date him? No. He can't do this. Not right now at least. He owes it to his friend to sit on these feelings for a bit. Give himself time to process what he's feeling and decide if this is what he really wants or if he's just latching on because it feels good at the moment. He's still so damaged and torn over Jake, is it fair to bring somebody into that?

No.

No. Definitely not. So Blaine buries it, like he does everything else, and justifies it because he knows that even if avoiding issues and running away is his _thing_, talking to Kurt about this right now wouldn't be appropriate.

So, instead, they spend the rest of their meal and a few hours after discussing everything else under the sun. Blaine tells Kurt about starting work again in a few days. About the choir auditions he had to sit through a few days ago and a particularly horrible student who had thought he'd been able to belt out Kurt's "If Any Other Day" from _Sapphire_ but in reality shouldn't even sing "Mary Had A Little Lamb".

Kurt tells him about the offers he's getting for the show. That there are several big names itching to play the lead when it finally does make its move to Broadway. He tells him how he's hesitant to replace his stars. That they've been with him since the beginning and it feels wrong to toss people to the side just because somebody with more credentials comes along. Says he feels required to nurture new talent because he got handed his dream job and so many of his classmates are still struggling to get their big break.

They both talk about the gay marriage bill that's managed to make it through Congress and is looking like it might possibly pass through Senate as well. They discuss what this means to them and admit that it probably means a lot more to their 16 year old selves than it does now. Because Blaine's already been married, even if his husband had been killed because people still refused to legitimize their love. And Kurt, well Kurt admits that he doesn't know if he's ever going to get married, new laws or not. But still, it's a big deal. It's the government stepping in and saying that they deserve what everyone else has always been handed. It's something that can change everything.

It's funny, Blaine doesn't know how much that it _will_ change everything.

_10 Months_

Once school starts again, Blaine tries to keep to a pretty regular routine. Tuesdays and Thursdays, Olivia has dance classes at the local community center. While she spends an hour and a half learning how to plié, Blaine goes running or boxes and occasionally he'll even take a yoga class because Jake had always pushed him to try it. Wednesdays are their night with Rachel and Mitch, the one week night where Rachel doesn't have to sing a full set at the restaurant she works at because they have an open mic. So they finish their homework early and go out for pizza or Chinese and if the weather is nice enough, take it to eat under the glowing lights of the city at a spot near the river they like to call theirs.

Fridays are date night. Olivia and Blaine's date night. He makes it a habit of getting them dressed up so she feels it's something special and takes her wherever her little heart desires. Sometimes it's for tea and sandwiches at the local coffee shop, _usually_ it's for tea. Other times it's a movie or dinner. And occasionally, when there's something appropriate playing and the money is there, he'll take her to a show. Those are the nights she loves the best.

Saturdays are kept empty for errands and the endless housework that builds up during the week. Occasionally, Olivia goes over to a friend's house or invites somebody over, but usually she spends it on the couch with Disney Channel or attempting to work a vacuum until Blaine is finished and they can cook a nice dinner together at home. Blaine, thankfully, has managed to learn how to at least cook pasta and chicken. Sundays, Blaine drops Olivia off at Rachel's and heads off for lunch and tennis with Wes. It's something new. Something Rachel and Wes came up with to give him some time to himself now that he's a single Dad and never gets a break.

Mondays are... interesting. It's the one night Kurt doesn't have a show to put on. So when those days aren't filled with dinner meetings, workshops, or business trips to LA, he's started coming over. It's oddly _domestic _for two people that aren't dating. He'll cook dinner with them, help Olivia with her homework and sit on the couch with Blaine and watch the CSI:LA shows that Blaine loves but knows Kurt only tolerates because the lead actor is attractive.

So basically, Blaine finally has a routine back and it makes things easier to manage. He's comfortable knowing what's expected of him each day and knowing that there is a plan. He's not just looking into a future of empty days where he's alone with only the company of a five year old to keep him from going crazy.

But then, something unscheduled happens. Something that's been whispered about between couples too nervous to hope. Something that's been debated on the news for years but nobody's ever thought would _really_ happen. Something happens that's both incredibly exciting and depressingly painful.

President Carpenter redefines the definition of marriage.

Blaine's sitting in his office putting together a set list for their fall showcase when he finds out. One of his fellow teachers comes running in to tell him the news. Shocked and not believing it could be possible, he pulls up the news on his phone. Sure enough, there it is in big letters at the top of :

_US Government Legalizes Gay Marriage_.

Blaine stares at it for several minutes, waiting for the news to sink in. Waiting for the overwhelming joy he'd always expected he'd have at moments like this, but the only thing he feels is regret. Regret that he's already been married and the one person who should be celebrating this with him is gone. Regret that eight years ago, when Jake had wanted to be married in the church that he grew up in, that hadn't been possible. Regret that he had promised his husband if it ever became legal in Ohio, they could return to that church to renew their vows. He regrets that this law is now a case of too little too late.

Blaine's _been_ married. He's gotten to say his "I Do's," and he doesn't plan on ever doing it again.

On the other hand, as shitty as he feels for himself, he's happy for all the people this will help. Happy for Jake, knowing that his story, though not the sole cause for this, helped persuade others to finally act. To stand up for the basic civil rights they've been denied for so long. In his life, he'd tried to change to world with love. It's bittersweet, but he knows Jake would be happy he'd managed to do it through his death.

Blaine grabs his coat and is at a penthouse in Chelsea before he even realizes what he's doing.

He pounds on the door, desperate for somebody to talk to and hoping, praying that Kurt is home. Because he's not sure any of his other friends will fully be able to understand this moment. None of them spent all of their teenage years wondering if they'd be given the chance to walk down the aisle. Not wondering if they'd ever find somebody to walk down the aisle _with_, wondering if they'd actually be _allowed_ to walk down the aisle.

Kurt flings open the door looking like he's ready to kill whoever is on the other side. He's halfway dressed, shirt un-tucked into his dress pants and hair looking wild, but his face softens when he sees Blaine. Blaine doesn't know what to say or how to even form the words, so he just holds up his phone where it's still open to that life changing headline.

Kurt doesn't say anything but smiles, letting him know that he's already seen the news. He leads Blaine into the living room so they can both sit down on the couch together. When Kurt's arm falls around his shoulder, the emotions start flowing hard, fast and completely contradictory. Over-joyed, relieved, surprised, depressed, bitter. He doesn't know how to handle them when they keep changing so suddenly. Kurt seems to understand though, he always seems to understand. So the two of them sit in silence as Blaine alternates between laughing and crying into his best friend's shoulder.

"He's supposed to be here," Blaine whispers into his chest once he finally feels like he's able to breathe again.

"I know," he says, running a hand through his hair and breaking up some of the gel Blaine's used to control the curly mess. It's soothing. Jake never used to do that, only Kurt. Jake had always complained that his hand would come back sticky and gross if he touched his hair for too long. Kurt, Kurt always understood. Though he would tease him that he didn't need to use so much, he always understood that this was part of Blaine. The slicked back hair made him feel more in control and completed the put together fifties heartthrob look he was fond of.

"We used to dream about this day," Blaine says, his mind lost in another time and place.

"I can imagine," he responds, never stopping the steady stroking of Blaine's hair, grounding Blaine to reality.

"No, not Jake. I mean, yes, we did dream about this, too. I was talking about me and you," Blaine explains.

"Back then it always felt like it could be any day... like we would wake up one morning at that would be that. It would be legal. But something always seemed to get in the way," Kurt says, he to now is lost in memories. Blaine wonders if they are fond now, like his or if they are full of regret. High school had been such a magical time for them, but when college hit and that all started to fall apart, he wonders if those memories remained happy for him.

"If it had been legal back then, would you have married me like Finn and Rachel?" Blaine asks, not sure where the question comes from.

"I hope not, their marriage ended after three weeks," Kurt jokes.

"You know what I mean," he says, nudging him in the shoulder lightly. Kurt doesn't answer for a minute, thinking over his words.

"I'm not sure. I think I probably would have seriously thought about it. At the time we were both pretty positive we would be forever."

Blaine thinks about that. Wonders what that Blaine, high-school-Blaine would think of how his future turned out. Married to somebody that wasn't Kurt. Rachel Berry having his daughter for them? He probably would refuse to believe it.

"Do you remember the night that New York legalized it?" Blaine asks, again not really sure where he's going with this. Not really sure when he went from bitter and angry to nostalgic. It's been a weird night.

"You think I'd forget that?" Kurt laughs. Throws his head back and really, fully laughs. "You ran around your house yelling at your dad to suck it because you could get married now when you moved to New York with your big gay boyfriend and you'd spend the rest of your life having big gay sex."

Blaine has to laugh at that, because it wasn't really what he was thinking about when he brought it up. He was thinking about _That could be us_ and _In just a few more years it will be. _But now that he's picturing himself, sixteen and full of hope for his future. Full of anger at his past and resentment for his father. He's let that go throughout the years. The anger and the resentment, it was pointless when he couldn't change any of it. And that hope, he wonders if he's let that go now, too or if it's sitting beneath the surface, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

"Not my proudest moment," Blaine says, thinking of the look of horror on both his father's and Kurt's faces.

"Not really, no. And it kind of ruined the mood when you got grounded for three weeks because of it."

"Yeah, but before that. That was a good night," Blaine says, sending him a significant look.

"The best," he smiles back, fond.

There's something there, something that's probably always been there but Blaine's been too lost to see it clearly. There's longing. It's present in both of them. The connection they shared, the memories, they were special. And they threw them away like they were nothing. It's not just the regret of lost relationships, because that is bound to happen to high school sweethearts and Blaine doesn't regret Jake in the slightest. It's the regret of losing contact with each other for years. Of forgetting birthdays, ignoring texts, and going years without a single phone call. It's so stupid. So many years just gone.

"Tell me about him," Kurt asks when Blaine finds himself slipping away from the conversation.

"What?" he asks, not sure he understands what Kurt is asking him. Because they've _talked_ about him.

"I want to know about Jake," he says in such a self assured way that Blaine knows he's being honest. "I read the courtroom transcripts, the way you talked about him, the way everyone talked about him, I know he had to be a pretty outstanding guy. Plus, you know, he made half of Olivia and that's one half of amazing."

"You're serious?" Blaine's never talked to Kurt about Jake like this. Like he would gush to a friend. He's never wanted to, never been sure how Kurt would react. It's the same reason Jake never knew anything beyond _we were in love and he broke up with me after a panic attack_.

"Yes," Kurt says, giving him that look that Blaine can never deny. "We're supposed to be best friends, it's pretty embarrassing that I don't know more, actually."

"Okay," Blaine says, unsure where to start. How much does Kurt want to know? How much is Blaine comfortable sharing?

"What was his favorite movie?" he asks. Blaine is grateful for the guidance, for an easy place to start.

"He claimed it was _The Shawshank Redemption_ because he always gave me shit for liking romantic comedies, but I know he secretly watched _The Notebook_ on my laptop when I wasn't looking at least once a month."

"What did you do on your first date?" Kurt asks, settling back into the couch more, like he's settling in for a long conversation. He doesn't look jealous or upset, just interested.

"He took me out to this god awful Mexican place near campus," Blaine says. It's been years since he thought about that place. "It was a disaster, worst date I've ever been on. He ordered this appetizer for us and it had avocado in it. I didn't know at the time, but I'm allergic."

"You're allergic to avocados?" he asks, completely shocked.

"So it would seem," Blaine laughs, thinking to how his face swelled up only minutes after his first bite.

"I swear you've eaten them before," Kurt says, giving him a peculiar look.

"Never before that night and never again."

"Are you sure?" He side eyes him. It's understandable, for how long the two of them have known each other, how long they were inseparable, that it's a strange thing not to know about somebody.

"Considering we spent the rest of our first date in the clinic, I'm pretty sure."

Kurt hums, but doesn't say anything more, just gestures for him to continue with his story.

"It was mortifying, but was really good for us I think. He got to see me as the mess I was at the time instead of the suave confident guy I pretended to be and I got to see his nurturing side. He used to tell everyone that was the moment he knew that I was it, but I think he lied. There's nothing that screamed 'marry me' about hives, swollen tongue and wheezing."

"I don't know," Kurt says. "You've always been the most attractive when you're vulnerable and not hiding behind your charming personality."

And there it is again. The two of them are inches apart; Kurt is staring at his lips. Blaine is fighting the urge to close his eyes and lean in a centimeter more. There's a reason they can't do this. Blaine knows there is a reason, he just can't think of it right now.

"Kurt—" Blaine gives in. He closes his eyes and lets their lips meet in the slightest of touches before he realizes what's going on and pulls away, suddenly. He regrets it as soon as he does, wants to fix it when he sees the hurt look on Kurt's face, but doesn't know how to.

"I should probably get going," Blaine mumbles, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He stands up and looks around to see where he's stashed his sweater. When had that come off anyway? "There's the sitter and you... God you're all dressed up, you have plans, don't you?"

"Neil and David are having a party at their place to celebrate," Kurt says with a shrug, playing with the edge of his shirt tail. "I don't have to go."

"You should," Blaine says, knowing that it's the right thing to say and chastising himself for thinking about begging him not to.

"What if I _want_ to stay?" Kurt says with a bit of a bitter bite that Blaine hasn't heard in years. A tone that Kurt's kept hidden from him.

"Do you?" he asks in a small voice. "Want to?"

"Isn't that embarrassingly obvious?" Kurt says with a self-deprecating laugh.

"The sitter has been complaining about the cost of textbooks at NYU. She'd probably appreciate a few extra hours," he hears himself saying absently. He's sitting back down on the couch, bodies closer than they had been before. He doesn't know why he's doing this. Doesn't understand _what_ he's doing, only that he needs this. Whatever this is.

"We should talk about this," Kurt says.

They don't. It's horrible, because something this important should really be taken better care of. There should be a discussion and any lingering confusion should be cleared up before they potentially screw this up, but they don't. They can't manage much of anything besides a heavy press of lips together and fumbling hands relearning each other's bodies after years of distance.

A few hours later, once they are both sated and Blaine's waking from the short slumber he'd fallen into, he realizes how foolish they've been. How rushed this is and what a horribly, epically bad mistake they've made.

"Where are you going?" Kurt mumbles, still sleepy as Blaine stands up and starts to find his clothes. He reaches his arm out to grab him, but Blaine carefully avoids it. He can't even look at him right now without feeling sick.

They aren't in college anymore. He can't just fall into bed with Kurt whenever he feels vulnerable only to wake up still broken up in the morning. Hell, he couldn't even do it _then_. Sex, it means something. It's always meant something, at least to him. He doesn't just throw it around for anybody. The problem is he doesn't trust that Kurt doesn't.

It's probably stupid, he knows he's being horribly insecure, but he can't help thinking of all the times that Kurt's come to him over the years. Shown up at his door with Project Runway DVDs, vodka and a hopeful smile. Can't help remembering all the whispered promises as Kurt kissed away his pain only to be gone in the morning. They've done this dance a million times and where has it gotten him?

Fuck. Blaine thought he was over this. Thought he'd forgiven Kurt for all the things that happened when they were kids, but now he realizes he can't be over it. Not really. Not when they just slept together and Blaine doesn't even know what it means.

"Come back to bed," Kurt says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The blanket falls from his shoulders and Blaine has to remind himself not to look. Not to peek at the slightly toned muscles in his chest and the trail of hair that he'd kissed down...

No. He can't do this.

"I have to go," Blaine says shortly.

"No, you don't," he whines back, always clingy when he's tired and sated.

"Yes, I do," Blaine snaps feeling his temper start to flare. "It's late and I never even called the sitter to tell her I wouldn't be coming home. I have a daughter to get back to, I have a _life_."

"Where is this coming from?" he looks back at him confused, rubbing the sleep from his eyes until he's fully awake.

"What are you doing, Kurt?" Blaine turns to finally look at him, really look at him.

"What am _I_ doing? I'm pretty sure there were two of us in this equation," Kurt says with a bit of an edge. But mostly, he just sounds resolved. Like he's expected this to happen. He stands up and hands Blaine his shirt from where it's been kicked under the bed, then he proceeds to head to his walk-in closet, emerging in a pair of simple jeans and a plain long sleeved T.

"We can't do this," Blaine says once they are both fully dressed again.

"Relax, it was just sex. It doesn't have to be a thing," Kurt explains, sitting down on the bed and leaning back casually, as if they aren't discussing anything more important than the weather.

"Of course not," he responds with a roll of his eyes. He should have known better. Nothing's really changed, no matter how much it may seem like it has. "Because that's all I am to you anymore isn't it. Some guy you call when you're horny and feeling low."

"_You_ came over _here_," Kurt says, his patience gone. The two of them are staring at each other, both digging in and preparing for a fight. Blaine's nervous; he knows how vicious they can both get. They've known each other too long not to know exactly what buttons to press to hit each other the hardest. He knows he should back down, but he's angry and hurt and is itching for a fight.

"Yeah, and what a mistake that was," he says harshly. "I bet you've just been waiting for this moment. Waiting to see if I'd break and give you another meltdown you can pen for your next Tony winner."

"What? That's not even—"

"_You moved me_? Really, you really thought that was appropriate to put into your show?" he asks crossing his arms over his chest to keep them from falling into fists. He needs to hit something right now but without a punching bag around, he's nervous he'll punch a hole through Kurt's wall. And wouldn't that just be perfect?

"Or that I wouldn't put two and two together when Harrison and Mariah's breakup was suspiciously word for word _our_ breakup?" he continues. "It must be nice to be making your millions off of _my_ words."

"Where is this even coming from?" Kurt asks. Blaine's far too worked up to realize that he's not hitting back.

"Where do you think? I'm sick of you taking advantage of me."

"How am I taking advantage of you?" he asks, flabbergasted. "You consented to this. Fuck, you pushed this. I'm the one that suggested we talk before. I'm the one that asked you multiple times if you wanted to stop. I'm sorry if you're hurt over this, but I didn't do anything wrong. It's okay."

"How is this okay? We slept together," Blaine yells. He's grateful that Kurt lives on the top floor with no neighbors. He shudders to think of what somebody might hear.

"I remember, thanks," he says, pulling himself back against the headboard and pulling his knees to his chest. He looks young, vulnerable, but none of this registers with Blaine.

"Then I wake up to you telling me that it doesn't have to mean anything. What the hell happened to you? Sex means something, it always means something. And for you of all people to say that it doesn't?"

"I'm not saying it didn't," Kurt finally snaps, looking up at Blaine with wet eyes. "I'm just saying if you're going to have a breakdown over it, I'm capable of pretending it didn't happen."

"Trust me, I'm well aware." He rolls his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks in a small voice that shouldn't belong to such a confident and powerful man.

"Vegas?" Blaine shrugs as if that word should be enough. For them, it is. The memory of that night flashes before them and hangs in the air. The night that almost changed everything, for better or worse, Blaine's not sure. That's the thing about the road not taken, it's impossible to know what might have been.

"What about Vegas?"

"We hooked up," Blaine says, as if either of them needs to be reminded. "I almost ruined my marriage because of it and you call me one day crying and saying that you love me? You send me countless text messages saying that you need me and that you're sorry and I... I was _stupid_ enough to believe you. To believe that you actually might mean it this time. But it turns out that was just another joke to you because you stopped calling."

"You never picked up the phone either," Kurt says, staring at his feet and blushing slightly at the memory. Drunken text messages have never been Kurt's style but those two weeks? They had been rather abundant.

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Blaine asks, thinking back to the countless times he'd been so close to calling him. To throwing his marriage aside and running back into Kurt's arms. "Call you up crying and confess that I was seriously confused? Tell you that I didn't know how I was supposed to have a baby with Jake when I wasn't completely over you?"

"Maybe?" Kurt says, looking at him as if he doesn't really know what he should say. He's lost for words and that works out just fine for Blaine because he's got plenty.

"You tossed me aside when you got back to New York. Everything was big and shiny and exciting again. I'm only an option for you when I don't have Broadway to contend with."

"That's not what happened..."

"Then what the hell did?"

"I..." Kurt looks like he wants to say something. He has a desperate look like he needs Blaine to understand something, but he won't say anything. He shakes his head and looks down; he isn't going to tell him.

"Well that's just great, isn't it," Blaine mutters. "You sit here with your secrets. I'm leaving."

"Please."

Blaine hears the broken cry as he leaves the bedroom. It claws at his heart to hear it and he knows he should go back in there and fix things. He can't leave like this. Not again.

He pulls out his phone to make a call. He can't stay here. He wasn't lying before; he really does need to get home to Olivia. It's a school night for fuck's sake and she's probably wide awake and worried, wondering where Daddy is. There are several missed calls and text messages from the sitter trying to figure out where he is. He curses himself and sends a quick text, letting her know that somebody will be by to relieve her soon and that he's sorry. Then he calls Rachel, because who else can he really trust this to?

"Hey, what's up? You don't usually call this late. Is this about the news? Because, honestly, I expected you to call me earlier." Rachel says, her voice high and excited like it is after she gets off stage and is still high on adrenaline. "I just finished my show where I killed Adele's 'To Make You Feel My Love,' not that I ever don't. And a producer from Columbia was there that offered me a contract, which. It's always nice to hear that my talents are appreciated even if I'm not going to go down that route again."

"I need a favor," Blaine cuts her off before she can really get going.

"What's going on? Are you guys okay?" she asks, instantly becoming serious. He supposes after the accident she's as easily spooked as he is.

"I need you to go over to my place, get Liv from the sitter and take her for the night," Blaine explains. He can't leave, not with the way Kurt is crying on the other side of the door. He may be angry, but it's still Kurt. And he's never been able to walk away when Kurt needs him.

"Why, where are you going to be?" she asks, suspicious.

"Rachel—" he says with a warning tone, pinching the bridge of his nose and preparing for the lecture he's about to get.

"Blaine Michael Anderson, if the next words out of your mouth are that you're spending the night with Kurt, I'm going to come over there myself and shove my rhinestoned microphone so far up your ass you'll never find it again," she says. New York has really expanded her vocabulary, and not for the better.

"Can we not," he whines, too tired to go at it with her when he still hasn't finished working through this awkward thing with Kurt.

"Exactly, can _you_ not?" she counters. "If you're horny, I have friends. I have _many_ gay friends that would gladly give you what you need for the night."

"What I need is Kurt," Blaine says, admitting it aloud for the first time.

"Blaine."

"Rachel," he parrots back. "If you don't do it, I'm just going to call Wes. And I really don't want to have to wake him up when he leaves for work at 6 every morning."

"I'll pick up Liv," she sighs, like it pains her to agree to even the smallest part of Blaine's plan. "Obviously I'll always pick up Liv. I'm just worried about you."

"Me, too, but you can't protect me from this," he says.

She sighs, he knows that this isn't the last he'll be hearing about this. But she relents. "Fine. Call me in the morning if you need me to take her to school."

"Thank you," he says, hanging up before she has the chance to change her mind.

Blaine pockets his phone and stands up on shaky feet. He goes into the kitchen and pulls out a pot so he can heat up some milk for Kurt, the only thing he'll drink when he's this upset. Blaine feels bad for snapping at him now. For letting his temper get control of him like he had. They were adults and should have handled this as such. Blaine is the one that threw a fit that rivaled Olivia's tantrums. He needed to fix this, because the sounds currently coming from Kurt's room sound like he's being tortured and that? That's all on Blaine.

Once the milk is warmed up enough, he carefully funnels it into a mug. He brings it to the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand and crawls into bed to tentatively pull Kurt into his arms. When Kurt doesn't push him away, he relaxes, rubbing his friend's back in comforting circles. Kurt's tears are soaking his shirt and he would be worried about it getting ruined by the desperate way Kurt's clinging to him, but he's pretty sure it was already ruined by the hurried activities earlier this evening.

"I heated you up some milk," he says, handing the mug to Kurt once he's finally started breathing normally again.

Kurt shoots him a half smile and takes the mug from his hands. He sips at it slowly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," he says.

"I probably deserved it," Kurt responds, putting the empty mug on the floor beside him so that he won't have to reach over Blaine to get to the nightstand.

"No," he quickly says, reaching out to grab his hand in both of his own. "You really didn't. I shouldn't be fighting with you over a breakup that happened ten years ago."

"I didn't mean to make you feel abandoned or even confused," Kurt says, latching onto Blaine's hands and refusing to let go. That's how the two of them find themselves cross legged and facing each other, knees touching and hands holding on. It's so _them_ that it hurts.

"It's not your fault that I was confused," he says, running his thumb over his knuckles.

"_I'm_ the one that called you afterwards," Kurt says. "I could have let that be a drunken mistake. We would have gotten past it eventually. It wasn't the first time we'd hooked up since the breakup. But I didn't. I called you and texted you and told you that I wanted to get back together and you were _married_. You'd moved on, rightfully so, and I had no place doing that to you. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course I did," he says, pulling at Blaine's hands and giving him a look like he thinks Blaine's insane for having to ask.

"Then why did you disappear?" he asks, voicing a question he's been asking himself for years. He's never understood how they went from having conversations about their relationship, how Kurt had confessed he still loved him, to nothing. "Why didn't I hear from you for years?"

"Because..." he pauses, biting his bottom lip and looking away. He's nervous. "God, I never wanted you to hear about this..."

"Just tell me," Blaine pleads. "It can't be any worse than anything else that's happened."

"Jake came to me." Kurt says it quickly, so fast that Blaine isn't quite sure he's heard him right.

"What? When?"

"After Vegas."

Blaine's confused, because he's never heard of this. Jake's never given him any indication that he's ever met Kurt before apart from one awkward night at the Lima Bean over Christmas several years ago.

"That day that we talked on the phone for an hour and I told you I wanted to run away together, do you remember?"

"Yeah," Blaine says slowly, still not quite understanding. Jake told him everything. They'd had a full disclosure agreement ever since Vegas, when they'd almost broken up. How does he now know about this?

"He showed up at the stage door of my show," Kurt explains.

"Okay."

"He told me that he was going to divorce you."

This stops Blaine's heart. Because he'd had his suspicions those days and weeks that Jake refused to come home, sleeping on the couch when he finally did. But divorce, the word had never once been uttered from either of their mouths. To know that Jake talked to Kurt of all people about leaving him? That hurts Blaine. That hits home in so many uncomfortable ways.

"He wouldn't. He didn't. I don't believe you," Blaine says quickly, willing the tears not to fall because the truth is, he believes every word.

"I told him that he was an idiot," he responds, giving Blaine a sad smile. "Only a fool would walk away from you if you weren't asking them to."

"You did," Blaine says, his throat almost too tight to make a sound.

Kurt had told Blaine he wanted forever only to break up with him over a panic attack on New Year's Eve that almost cost Kurt his internship. It wouldn't be that out of the question for Jake to do the same. After all, this wasn't a panic attack that he couldn't control, this had been cheating. Bitterly, Blaine wonders if it would have been easier or harder to say goodbye back then rather than watch his husband be beaten to death.

"I was a kid, how is anybody supposed to know what they'll want when they are that young?" Kurt confesses, sounding almost as lost as Blaine feels. And isn't that just great, the both of them trying to hold each other above water when they are barely swimming themselves.

"You were always pretty single minded about wanting Broadway. Nothing could stop you," he says, letting go of Kurt's hand to wipe at the tears on his face.

"Like I said, I was young."

"What did Jake say, after you told him that?" Blaine asks, knowing that he needs to find out how this conversation had gone down. What had Kurt said to Jake to make him come back home? Why didn't Jake ever bring up divorce if he had been willing to talk to his ex-boyfriend about it?

"He asked me if I loved you as much as he did," Kurt says.

Blaine doesn't know what to say. The thought of this going down without him knowing makes him sick. Like he's just some object the two of them could bargain over. Didn't either of them think that he should get a say in this conversation if it involved his future?

"I told him that I did. At least, I thought I did," Kurt continues on with his story while Blaine sits there feeling numb and detached. It's easier than feeling the overwhelming anxiety, the panic of how easily he could have lost it all. Would that have been what he wanted? If left to his own decisions, would he have actually left Jake for Kurt? He doesn't think he would, but the temptation would have been there. It would have been strong.

"Do you want to know what he told me? What he said that made me realize what a home-wrecking asshole I had been?"

Blaine doesn't answer. He's too far into his fog to respond, but he hears every word and is waiting with baited breath for his answer.

"He told me that he was prepared to live the rest of his life alone if it meant you would be happy. That you were his soulmate, but he would give up his career, his home, his family, his life, even _you_ if that's what you wanted. He told me if I could say the same, he would sign the papers. I could have said yes, he wasn't even fighting me for you and I would have given anything to be with you, but I lied."

"Why?" Blaine asks, bitter that the two of them gambled with is future so easily without once asking what _he_ wanted. Both of them had just assumed they weren't it for Blaine and went with it.

"Because you could lose me," Kurt says, sounding broken. "You couldn't lose Jake. You never loved me like you loved him."

"That's not true," Blaine says.

He loved them both equally. Differently, yes, but equally. That's what had made the phone calls so hard for him. They gave him such different things and he never understood how he was supposed to choose which life was better for him. He thinks he knew the answer and was too afraid to admit it because of what it meant losing.

"You were _born_ to be a father," Kurt says with a genuine smile. "I watch you with Olivia and I know in my heart that you're exactly where you need to be. To have a family and be loved unconditionally, that's all you've ever really wanted. Even when you performed, you weren't looking for the spotlight or the fame like I was; you were looking for love and acceptance."

Blaine feels raw and exposed with Kurt's words; he always does when he realizes that other people can see how he ticks.

"I was willing to give you a lot, but I wasn't ready to give you a family and stability like Jake could. I knew, and I think Jake did, too, that if you were given the option like you should have been, there was a chance you would chose me."

"You don't know that," Blaine says, though he's pretty sure both Jake and Kurt have always understood him better than he understands himself. That they both recognized that Blaine had been on the verge of making a decision that he would regret.

"I lied to Jake about how much I loved you because I saw how much he could give you that I couldn't," he confesses and it's painful to hear. All of this is just so much to hear on a day that his emotions have been so exposed.

"I knew how likely it was that you would get scared and chose something comfortable, something you've known since high school. Because there's part of you that always needs to prove yourself and that part of you will always be looking for a way to prove to yourself that you could have been enough for me."

The two of them watch each other, listening to the shallow breaths they both take as they try and reign in their tears.

"You could have been enough. You _would_ have been enough, you have to know that," Kurt says with such sincerity it's hard not believe it. "But being with me would have destroyed you. We would have made it work, but you wouldn't have the wonderful family you've got now and that would have killed you."

"I don't understand," he says, searching for the right words to say.

"I know, you should have had a say in all of this," Kurt says, eyes begging to be forgiven.

"No, I understand why you didn't tell me," he says, dismissively. "I don't like it, but I get it. I don't understand why you're telling me all of this now. What's changed?"

Kurt just shakes his head, giving him a confused look and fumbling for words to say.

"Kurt, you didn't think you were good enough for me before so you let me go so I could have the family I always wanted. But now you're telling me you love me? What's different? I know Jake's gone now, but the problem's still there. I still need stability that you can't give. So what's changed?"

"I realized I can have both."

Blaine doesn't know how to take the answer. It's not Kurt confessing that he's going to give up his career for Blaine. But honestly, Blaine doesn't want him to. Never really did. He doesn't want to be responsible for making somebody give up their dreams.

"I didn't consider it before because I'm eyes have always been bigger than my stomach," Kurt says with a cynical laugh. "I wanted so much from this business because I didn't understand it. I thought it could give me what I was looking for but it can't. It doesn't matter how many shows I put out there as "fuck you's" to all the people that put me down. Broadway is great. It's amazing and I'm always going to love it more than is healthy, but it's not everything."

"It's not," Blaine says and he doesn't know if he's asking a question or stating a fact that he's known since the beginning. That Rachel had to find out the hard way.

"I was naive. I shouldn't have let my ambition tear me away from so many people that loved me for more than the money I could make them."

Kurt's back to full out crying by now and Blaine can't stop himself from pulling him into his arms. The two cling to each other for most of the night, whispering reassurances in each other's ears when the crying becomes bad enough to need it. Their clothes stay on this time, thankfully, because allowing themselves that comfort had only been permitted when they didn't realize this was an option. Blaine falls asleep as the little spoon with Kurt nuzzling at his neck. Things aren't perfect, but at least they've finally said the pieces they've been holding onto for years.

At least they are finally admitting to each other that this is what they want. That this is what they will have once the dust settles and they pull themselves out of this wreckage. They will have each other and they'll be damned if they ever let go again.

Later, there will be concerned friends to pacify. They'll be Olivia to worry over, because though she loves Kurt, she's scared that he's going to replace her papa. Kurt will spend Halloween trick-or-treating with them instead of throwing his annual costume bash. There'll be Thanksgivings spent apart because Kurt needs to go home and Blaine just _can't_, not on the anniversary of Jake's death. There'll be Christmas and New Year's and Valentine's Day... later it will all pass by so easily that Blaine will forget he ever had to count his life in seconds and short breaths.

But for now, there is just the quiet, barely there snore of Kurt against him, holding on like he's always done. And if this is going to be his new forever, well he thinks that's something he can get used to.


End file.
